


The Ballad's Beginning

by fioreofthemarch



Series: Champions and Beasts [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Also postgame, Champion's Ballad, Champions, F/M, Minor DLC spoilers, Minor Violence, Origin Story, Prequel, Worldbuiling, plot-focused, rebuilding Hyrule, zelink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-02-06 19:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 81,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fioreofthemarch/pseuds/fioreofthemarch
Summary: Today, as the sun rose and a new day was born, my daughter, too, joined this sweet world.During the reign of King Rhoam, four talented individuals rise to prominence as Champions. But deceit and deception lie just under the surface, and powerful new forces emerge that could change the path of history, leading King Rhoam to take drastic actions to protect his Kingdom -- even risking his own daughter. And all the while, Calamity looms...A BOTW Prequel focusing on the Champions, King Rhoam and the fall of Hyrule. UPDATES FORTNIGHTLY. Part One (From the Ground Up) is NOT REQUIRED to read (but is recommended)





	1. Zelda

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This work aims to tell the story of the reign of King Rhoam and how each Champion became known, as well as exploring the first year of Zelda's reign, and her continuing relationship with Link. As with _From the Ground Up_ , this work takes a darker, (somewhat) more realistic approach to the politics and people of Hyrule, and has a strong focus on worldbuilding and lore. 
> 
> It is NOT NECESSARY to read Part One, as any important information is fully explained. However, this is still a follow up so I recommend it. I have the entire fic planned out, so it will update WEEKLY during the weekend (usually Saturday). 
> 
> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com) here.
> 
> UPDATE: This work now contains minor DLC spoilers from The Champion's Ballad (mostly the diary content). All references will be integrated into the story so you do NOT need to have played it. This was always going to happen as this work was inspired by the DLC itself.

_ There is a phrase that I have heard the bards use. ‘Every story is a song’, they say. I wonder if mine sounds as terrible as I imagine. _

King Rhoam’s Diary, Entry #514

* * *

The rain against Hyrule Castle filled its halls with the rhythmic patter of water on stone. The storm had lasted well into the night and gave no sign of waning.  _Summer's End._ That was what the singers called it: when the wind turned cold, and the rains grew long and thin, heralding the oncoming Autumn. Once, not so long ago, such a storm might have been a threat, eroding what remained of Hyrule. _But no longer,_ Zelda thought as she listened to the rain. 

Where it has once been torn open, once revealing the full breadth of the skies above, the roof of the Hyrule Castle Library had been repaired. The damaged books had been removed and refurbished, reshelved; the floors had been polished, the stone and carpet replaced where it had broken or rotted away. It was a ruin no more.

 _The library is healing_ , Zelda mused, idly running a hand along a row of books on their shelf. Perhaps healing was the wrong word, but it would have to do.  _The castle is healing. The kingdom is healing_. This was what she told herself in moments of doubt; what she had to believe. Things were always improving. Zelda had seen it with her own eyes: the way the new Castle Town seemed to grow each day, the way the flowers bloomed stronger, the way the roads became busier. Her advisors too brought news each day of change, always change. Everything was new and once again with colour. Blinding colour. How could she ask for it to soften, to slow? How could she admit that the kindling of fear within her sometimes grew into a wildfire, like those that sometimes tore through Faron and Gerudo in the high Summer?

There had never been a Queen as young as she; there had not been a Queen in almost one hundred and twenty years. One hundred and twenty years! Yet here she was at the helm, trying to steer her Kingdom back to the prosperity she was sure it deserved. Or at the very least, to steer it away from ruin. Yet Zelda knew that Hyrule was more enduring than it seemed. The Great Calamity had not destroyed it, Ganon had not destroyed it, even a civil war had not destroyed it; the Kingdom was strong enough to endure.  _But_   _am I strong enough?_ Zelda wondered. She found the book she wanted; a full journal hidden in a private study and sat herself down at one of the desks in the Library's cavernous central space.

At least one person believed with certainty that she would succeed. Her Knight-Captain, Link, with his well-levelled words and gentle hands, and a face so familiar she could fall into it. He was not her Consort, and he was not always with her - the call of duty often sending him to the far-flung corners of the word - but Zelda knew that she and Link were bound to one another by fate. What they had endured together was unfathomable now, and what he had done for her, the sacrifices he had made…

It had begun on a late-Summer morning when they had vanquished Calamity Ganon from Hyrule Castle. And in the year that followed, she and Link had worked tirelessly to unite Hyrule once more, though some upstart Gerudo bandit had made it his prerogative to stand in their way wherever he could. She and Link had fought and bled and wept during that monstrous year, stamping out the chaos in Hyrule for what Zelda hoped was once and for all. And they had found each other along the way, returning to Hyrule Castle together, where Zelda, at last, took her throne, and Link took his place at the helm of the Order of Hyrulean Knights.

And still, even after all of that, Link could never quite understand Zelda's own hardship. He may have led, but he did not  _rule_ , as she did.

And so, when there was no known precedent for her troubles or no word of advice that could calm her, Zelda sought peace in the Library, to find the last resource that she could rely on for some guidance.

_The Writings of King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule._

This was where she had come during  _Summer's End_ , to light a lantern and find her father's words. Rhoam was the only king she had never known, the only model on which to base herself. The records of the rest had been lost, and Zelda's memory was not strong enough to recall those particular lessons from her youth. After just over a year on the throne, however, Zelda did not quite feel like her father's analogue. She was Queen, not King, and the Hyrule she saw from the ramparts of her Castle was irrevocably changed from his. One hundred and three years had passed since the Calamity. How could anything be the same?

Zelda pried open the heavy journal. She had read it through twice, maybe three times. What she wouldn't give now to speak to her father; to give him her forgiveness, to ask for his council. As she flipped through the pages, passing an eye over the now familiar stories, she noticed a small slip of paper tucked into the lip of one of the pages and was surprised to have missed it.  _What could this be?_

The script was distinct from the rest that filled the journal, neater. Zelda traced her finger over the ink, and tried to imagine the hand that wrote it, reading the note aloud,

"' _Fill these pages well, Rhoam. As well as fate deigns to allow._ '"

A note left for her father. But by whom? She looked at the companion opposite her, a young man wearing a comfortable cotton tunic and a pair of thick gloves, haunched over the very same desk. He was surrounded by metal parts and tools of all kind, his Sheikah Slate giving off a low light and a gentle hum beside him. Link, joining her in her late-night research, happily tinkered away at  _something_  he had built for himself.

"Who do you think wrote it?" she asked him. His head perked up, eyes meeting hers, open and clear.

"Wrote what? I'll admit I wasn't listening," he said without pretence.

"Of course not," Zelda said, expertly hiding her amused smile. She passed the paper across the desk. "I found this in his diary, just then. I don't know who wrote it."

Link put down his tools and focused on the note. After a moment he concluded, "Not your father, perhaps?"

"Astute as always," Zelda retrieved the note to place it back in the diary.

"At your service, Your Majesty," Link smiled, ignoring the taunt. He raised the contraption in his hands to his face, peering at it with one eye shut and his tongue caught between his teeth. Thinking, always thinking, unable to rest. Closing Rhoam's journal, Zelda finally allowed herself to focus on what Link was working on and saw that it was a weapon.

"Careful where you aim that thing, you know I couldn't block it if I tried," she cautioned, examining the crossbow in detail. It was a new model, something he'd been working on for some time, judging by the intricacy of the mechanisms. Unloaded, she saw, but powerful if it were.

Link listened to her regardless, placing the weapon back down on the table. "You never know," he nodded towards the journal. "That might be thick enough, and you just might be fast enough. I've seen you training with your Battlemaster."

"Teba is a fine teacher," Zelda said. "And I won't be defenceless,"

"No...you won't." A moment hung between them, but Link did not pursue the topic further. "Zel…" he said softly. "This is the third night in a row. I don't mind sitting here with you - I  _like_  sitting here with you. But it's almost midnight and-"

"And I'm chasing a ghost. I know."

"A year ago...your powers…the Beasts..." He searched for the right way to broach the subject. "Have you considered reclaiming the power? So that you can... _look back_ , the way we once did?"

Zelda looked down at her right hand - the plain hand that it was. A year ago, it had contained an unfathomable level of power. The Sealing Power that her father had so often spoken of was so much _more_. Those three triangles; they were a weapon, a shield, a key and lock. A curse. A damned curse.

"It is as you said, some memories must be left to rest," Zelda explained. "And...some  _things_  must be left to rest."

There was an unspoken understanding.  _The Beasts._ Silent upon their plateaus, purpose spent. Zelda pushed the thought from her mind.

Link reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. "If it helps, you know I'm here."

"It always helps to have you here," she smiled at him, running a thumb over his skin. Zelda tucked the paper into her pocket. "I'm going to find the bard," she said. "He might know more."

"Of your father?"

"Of all of them. The Champions, the Beasts.  _The Untold Story of Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule._ If anyone knows anything of Hyrule's legends, it's Kass."

* * *

_One hundred and twenty years earlier_

* * *

Chief Advisor Voswann was the most impassioned he had ever been, his wrinkled face turning red, "My Queen, we implore you; this prosperity cannot last forever. Contingencies must be made. Think of your child!"

Instinctively, the Queen moved her hand to her stomach, feeling the warmth blossom on her skin. She had not been listening in earnest. Listening was difficult these days, when her mind preferred instead to wander when her back strained, and her feet ached in her slippers.

The Advisor spoke again, "If we may have your attention, Your Majesty-"

The Queen met his eyes, the first she had moved in minutes, and the entire room stiffened. She studied the faces before her. Men, young and old, in their noble clothes, with thin smiles and thinly veiled contempt - her advisors.

Officially, Hyrule was a matriarchy - as it always had been - but still Queen Zelda found her life filled to its very brim with men. Advisors and servants, high and low, every day she awoke to hear men's voices and men's words, all with their own views on her Kingdom and how it should be run.

The child was a girl, this the Queen knew. A little Princess, perhaps another Zelda, to give purpose to the toil in which she lived. The babe was not far off now, and admittedly, she had taken a toll on the Queen's health. This was the reason for the meeting that her advisors had called; for once it was Zelda and not her Kingdom, that concerned them. It was a familiar occurrence to find Voswann, and the rest of her advisors crowded into her study, lined up around her desk like a class of schoolboys, giving their counsel one by one. Men's voices; men's ideas.

"Continue, Voswann," the Queen instructed. She threaded a finger around the end of her long golden braid, and for a moment caught the eye of a silver-haired Sheikah standing towards the back of the small crowd, leaning casually, arms crossed. He smirked when their eyes met. Zelda looked back to Voswann, summoning her sweetest smile, "I was listening, I assure you."

Chief Advisor Voswann swallowed, straightened and cleared his throat before speaking. He was a gangly old man, with a vicious hooked nose and skin tougher than leather, but he had served the family for many decades and was much kinder and well-meaning than his exterior suggested.

"All we ask, Your Highness, is that you turn your focus inwards and consider  _your_  well-being, for this brief but incredibly important moment."

"What would have me do?" Queen Zelda demanded. She was not fond of discussing such a personal matter with what felt like half the nobles at Court. "I have the best care in the Kingdom, and the Castle is the safest place for me."

One of the elder advisors raised a hand, the doctor. Chief Apocethary, as the Court had titled him. "We do not mean any disrespect, but you must accept your ailing health. Thrice you have fainted in the past week, and your appetite is low; I have instructed you to take bed rest, and you refuse."

Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but Voswann spoke first, "What Apocethary Willem means is that Hyrule needs a strong ruler."

The advisors nodded, mumbling agreements, Willem adding, "And a healthy one."

Zelda narrowed her eyes, studying their faces. "What are you saying?"

Voswann stepped forward, seating himself in the small armoire opposite her desk, meeting her eye to eye. He spoke as gently as he could, "If you were to… if something were to happen to you. At any time, for any reason, while the child is still young-"

"Then my husband would be regent, Voswann," Zelda interjected. Already their plan was taking shape in her mind, though she could not believe it, asserting, "He would be Prince Consort, as he is now. Though let us hope it does not come to that."

"A weak title. An unofficial title, if anything else. We propose," The Chief Advisor passed an askance glance to the rest of the men behind him. "Zelda, we propose elevating your husband to King. Not King Consort. Just King."

" _King Rhoam_!?" the Queen burst out laughing, and the room twittered in response. "My apologies, but you all know my husband."

"He will not outrank you; you will be evenly matched," Voswann explained. "This is simply-"

"A contingency. I heard what you said."

"And perhaps, the title will persuade him to…" the Chief Advisor cleared his throat once more. "Be a little more present."

The Queen looked down at her belly once more and felt the child stir. Her head throbbed with the warnings of a headache; her blood felt thick in her skull. It was too much, too serious a decision to make now.

Voswann's voice lilted through her haze, bringing her back to the study. "If nothing happens," he said, "your child will have two brave parents who rule together. And if...if something  _does_ , then your child will be safe, their claim unthreatened."

Zelda stood, ignoring the gnawing pain in both her feet as she did. Behind her desk,, standing where her own mother once stood, the Queen felt strong. "I would discuss this with my husband first. Where is he now?"

The advisors all shared a tense look. At last, it was the Sheikah who spoke, earning him a scowl from the rest of them. "The training yard, Your Majesty, with the Knights."

"Of course," the Queen sighed. "Go then, all of you. You are dismissed. I will find my husband."

Trading low whispers and looks of worry, the advisors filed out of the room.

"Not you, Malachi," Zelda added, and the Sheikah advisor halted. He bowed as she approached.

"My Queen," he grinned, his voice smoother than warm honey. Zelda could not help but smile back.

"You are returning home soon?" she asked.

"On the morrow, as it happens."

"Speak to Elder Soklee, if you could. Tell her we will visit when the child is here."

Again Malachi bowed low. "Of course, my Queen. And may I say how grateful I am to be in your service. As I predicted, a new regime-"

"Of course, of course," Zelda said, unnerved, ushering him from the room so that she could be alone at last. Her headache was in full force now. Zelda braced herself against the wall until the pain lessened, and then went to find her husband.

* * *

In the southern reaches of Hyrule, the warriors of the old Lurelin tradition prefer spears. Some claim that their ancestors infiltrated Gerudo ranks, and brought the skills of the Gerudo warrior women to Faron. Others claim their tradition as fishermen, necessitating that the Lurelin warriors are as agile as their prey in order to find a meal. Whatever the truth- whatever the legend- it meant now that Prince Consort Rhoam of Hyrule was far outmatched by his southern sparring opponent, the Knight Otra of Old Lurelin, a spear-wielder of the finest calibre.

"At least use a sword," Rhoam complained. "How am I meant to come near you when you're wielding that thing?"

Rhoam had lost count of the number of times Sir Otra had landed a blow with his sparring spear. His body ached where the bruises were now forming, and his skin stung where it had been broken. But here, in the rain, with his blood as hot as his clothes were soaked and nothing to think on but the next swing of his sword, Rhoam was content.

All the Knights of Hyrule had gathered to watch the friendly sparring match – all four of them. Rhoam knew them each by name; Micah of Hateno, Nico of Rauru Village, Theo of Akkala and of course, Otra himself. The order had become small, as of late.

Otra spun his spear between his hands. "Perhaps you could try not running directly into the spear, for a start," he teased, garnering chuckles from the other knights. "Strength isn't enough. You need wits. However many you might have."

The jape spurred Rhoam into a charge, his sword raised and shield gripped tight. Otra stepped as though dancing, as though he knew Rhoam's moves before even he did; quicker than seemed possible, the southerner dodged Rhoam's careless strike, pivoted on his heel, and landed a cracking thwack across Rhoam's back with the length of the spear. Rhoam flew forward, toppling onto the muddy ground of the training yard. The Knights cheered as their Prince Consort landed hard on his stomach, his sword lost. When Rhoam looked up, Otra was towering over him, the blunted point of his weapon held to Rhoam's neck. His face was kept deadly still, almost vengeful. Were the Knight's spear sharp, Rhoam would be a dead man.

"I could charge you with treason," Rhoam said, diffusing the tension. Otra flung his head back and laughed.

"For knocking the Prince on his ass?" he said as Rhoam collected himself. "Are you going to report me to the Queen?"

"Might do. Not that she'd listen to me."

The spear wielder eyed the Castle behind them. "Weren't you called in for a meeting? With the Queen?"

Rhoam shrugged. "Yes, but I doubt I was needed. They don't care what I do."

Otra found Rhoam's sword in the mud and handed it to him. "What that must be like for you. All the fame, and all the privileges–"

"With none of the responsibility," Rhoam grinned. "I don't envy Zelda, trust me."

Otra patted Rhoam on the back. "I doubt she envies you," he said. "At least, not with that sword technique of yours."

"Right – and was your father Battlemaster to Hyrule?" Rhoam jeered.

"No, but he was a better fighter than you. I can read you like a book, Rhoam. Use your wits, or you'll land on your ass every time."

There was a shift in the yard, and Otra caught sight of something behind Rhoam, dropping immediately to his knees. The rest of the Knights had done the same, and when Rhoam turned, there she was.

She was dressed in her usual navy and gold, but she wore her hood drawn to keep the rain from her face, and her cloak was held over the swell of her belly – Zelda, the Queen, his wife. She stood at the entrance to the training yard, waiting patiently. Rhoam feared how much she may have seen.

"Speaking of using your wits," he heard Otra whisper.

Queen Zelda appraised her husband's muddy form and sighed. "Clean yourself up, and meet me in my study. We have something to discuss."

"We can't talk here?" Rhoam asked. Her gaze disarmed him in ways that even Otra could not. He was frozen in place.

The Queen sauntered through the training yard towards him, her long dress dragging in the mud. She was shorter than him by a head, but was, without a doubt, the grander of the pair. "It is a sensitive matter."

Rhoam was loathed to hear the answer, but could not stop himself. "What is it?"

The Queen wrung her hands, worrying the end of her long braid. She seemed as unwilling as he was. "You," she answered.

* * *

_King. King. You will be King._

Rhoam sat with his head in his hands, flung forward in his chair, hand clutching his scalp. The pain was how he knew it was real; he was pinching his skin, harder, harder, but still, he did not wake. His wife was speaking, but her words had turned to muffled bursts of noise, like a drumming in his skull.

 _King_ , she had called him. She had said it over and over.  _You will be King_.

All Rhoam had said was  _no. No no no no._ And once or twice,  _why_?

He and Zelda had convened in their private drawing room, far from the prying eyes of the court. Rhoam was not fond of meeting in studies like this one, austere, with high walls and thick curtains. It made him think of his boyhood, of being called up to his father's own study in the Hyrule Garrison to be reprimanded for some mischief or misunderstanding. A brawl here and there with one of the boys, a late night escapade to a nearby town to pose as commoners. His father had never understood.  _You are not a commoner, Rhoam_.  _You cannot keep acting out like this_.

No, he could not. He was the furthest thing from a commoner now - and somehow he was about to go even further.

"Rhoam, listen to me-" Zelda began, when suddenly she groaned, a hand to her stomach and another at her back. Rhoam snapped to attention then, as Zelda stumbled into a chair and sat down with another huff. His own troubles were forgotten then.

"Are you okay?" he said, rushing to her side. "Are you in pain?"

"It's just the child," the Queen said, gritting her teeth against the pain. "She is lively today. Probably the stress."

Rubbing circles on his wife's back, Rhoam sat dutifully at her side until the pain passed. "You still think it's a girl?"

"Almost certain. I can feel the power...fading," the Queen ran her fingers over her right hand. "It is hers now. I feel, somehow, that she might need it more than I."

In her voice, Rhoam sensed a certainty that uneased him. Zelda had always been in control, but this - there was something higher than her behind this.

"If I accept, will anything change?" he asked.

"You mean, will you need to do any less than you do now?" The Queen sneered, her bitterness so present that it was palatable. "Nothing will change unless we  _both_  will it."

"But if all your advisors support the idea, then what choice is there?"

Zelda frowned, standing again to shuffle some papers on her desk. "There is always a choice," she finally said.

"Is there?" Rhoam pressed.

"I don't want this any more than you do," Zelda sighed. "To be told I am not enough. To be told my Kingdom isn't safe unless a man is with me at the helm-"

"Well I happen to know about feeling inadequate," Rhoam snapped. "So maybe we'd make a good partnership!"

"Rhoam-" The Queen moved forward, a hand reaching out placate him, but he turned away. He felt a knot tightening in his stomach, the frustration of a beaten dog. Zelda's advisors had always told him he could do as he pleased, but he knew that privately they laughed at him.  _The Useless Husband_ , they said.  _The Ball and Chain_.

"Rhoam, the advisors will understand if you don't feel capable. They even expect it," The Queen said, and he understood.

"You were hoping I would say no, weren't you?" he said. "You think as little of me as they do," The Queen recoiled, and Rhoam knew his words had struck true. It spurred on his decision; "Well, you know what, I'll do it."

"We need to think about this!" Zelda protested, but Rhoam could not be bothered.

"The decision is made. I'll even tell Voswann myself." He extended an arm to her. "Shall we?"

* * *

They gathered in the throne room; they gathered in the streets. From every corner of Hyrule, from every town, the people came to watch. All knew the legend - from the nobles to the lowest of commoners - that the Royal family had ties with the gods of their world. And when one is raised to the highest office, there is a moment when the divine crosses the threshold to meet with the living, when fate and legend are laid bare before the throne.

King Rhoam of Hyrule, first of his name, was coronated in a grand ceremony in Hyrule Cathedral, an austere old structure that sat on the southern banks of Hylia River. He wore the heavy cloak, carried the ceremonial sword, and walked with head held high to claim the throne beside his wife. Zelda did not smile, but even so, she spoke with a force that exceeded her, so that the entire court, and perhaps the Kingdom too, could hear.

"One monarch is not enough; we live in an era of prosperity. We must ascend, together!" she said, and the cathedral was filled with cheers.

Then came Chief Advisor Voswann, with Rhoam's crown in hand. It was a simple ornament; wrought in gold, with the wings of the Royal crest on each side and a deep red ruby at the forefront. Zelda had chosen the design.  _It is bold, yet unassuming,_ she had teased,  _just like you_. With his age-worn hands shaking and a smile on his old face, Voswann feebly lowered the crown over Rhoam's head.

And so it was. He was King. The Court cheered. Long may he reign, Rhoam thought wryly.

At the feast that followed, Voswann brought a thick tome before Rhoam's table. He expected it to be some dreary history of Hyrule, retelling the fairy tales he had heard in his childhood, but Rhoam found instead that it was a journal. The pages were blank, and the paper thick, perfect for writing, and the binding was leather was so tough that Rhoam thought it could last well after he was gone.

"Every King needs a memoir; I gave your wife a similar journal upon her ascension," Voswann explained as Rhoam flipped through the many pages.

"I never used mine," The Queen laughed. "I doubt Rhoam will either."

"I might," Rhoam protested feebly, though he knew Zelda was right. What had he done so far that would even warrant entry? Becoming King? That hadn't exactly been his decision.

In the weeks that followed, as the time for the baby to come drew ever closer, changes began to permeate the Castle in response to their new monarch. The Queen was busy as ever, refusing to rest even with Apothecary Willem at her heels each morning urging her to do so. From overheard conversations and discussions at the many meetings he was now forced to attend, Rhoam determined that Zelda had commissioned a new fleet of Hylian ships, and was planning on establishing a ferry between Faron coast in the south and Akkala. More often than not, however, those meetings ended with either Chief Advisor Voswann or Zelda herself shaking Rhoam awake.

"It's not my fault if I drift off," he had argued after one particularly tedious meeting. "Why do these meetings need to be so long?"

Zelda was incredulous, "Do you have any idea how much work we do here?"

While the Queen filled her time with managing the Kingdom, Rhoam spent it being dragged to and fro, and so the journal Voswann had gifted him sat forgotten, until one sun-filled morning, when the Queen woke to great pain.

Not a few hours later, they held their daughter in their arms. A tiny, fragile, little Princess, with a tuft of angel blonde hair on her head. When she was handed to Rhoam, the babe opened her eyes, and he saw that they were as deep and bright as emeralds.  _Just like Zelda._  The babe clasped a tiny hand around one of Rhoam's fingers and promptly went back to sleep.

"Have you chosen a name?" asked one of the midwives.

"Zelda," Rhoam said immediately. "She is her mother's daughter. She must be Zelda."

The woman bowed and returned to aid Apothecary Willem, who was busily attending to the Queen. She was awake and unharmed but exhausted by the ordeal. "Bring her to me," the Queen rasped. "Zelda...let me see her."

Rhoam took one last look at his daughter before returning to his wife's side. Little Zelda had not stirred. She was...so still. At peace. He wondered for a moment who she would become and sensed then - an inclination rather than a revelation - that she was the most important thing he had ever held. That she deserved better than him, and that  _she_  was worth recording if nothing else.

At the earliest opportunity, Rhoam found his journal again and scribbled a few lines into the pages.

_Today, as the sun rose and a new day was born, my daughter, too, joined this sweet world. In keeping with the traditions of the royal family, I have decided to name her...Zelda. I am not a man accustomed to frivolous musings but now seems as good a time as any to begin my royal memorandum._

* * *

Princess Zelda's first royal tour was set to occur before she was even one month old. The Royal Family - the reluctant Rhoam, the exhausted Zelda and their oft sleeping daughter - were soon bundled into a carriage and set off on the Eastern Road towards Necluda.

Zelda had informed Rhoam that it was a royal tradition stretching back supposedly thousands of years for each Hylian heir to be brought before the Sheikah upon their birth. Even so, her advisors practically begged the Queen to forego such a trip. They upturned their noses at the very mention of the Sheikah and only relented when Zelda agreed to bring no less than two of the Hylian Knights as an escort. The Royal Advisors in Zelda's employ seemed to Rhoam to be more akin to naysayers than actual advisors. Almost everything she suggested had to be thoroughly argued, even traditions it appeared.

The journey towards Kakariko Village, the Sheikah's hidden stronghold, was slow and dreary. It rained almost around the clock, with a storm or two sometimes lighting up the sky, and the Eastern Road was so uneven that their little carriage felt at times like a small ship against the rolling sea. Rhoam did not envy Otra and Theo, the two Knights who had been made to accompany them, though he heard few complaints. Surprisingly, however, little Zelda had slept peacefully throughout their entire journey thus far, in stark contrast to her mother. She sat opposite him in the carriage, their daughter cradled in her arms, and as they neared the edge of Hyrule Field, her fretting grew more and more constant.

"Are you okay? You seem stressed," Rhoam asked.

At first, Zelda did not answer, instead staring long and hard out of the carriage window. She was often tight-lipped around him, and now seemed conflicted to even speak.

"Just one of my advisors," she said at last. "I had to dismiss him. The Sheikah. He was unpopular. And now his own people…" She paused and, seeing Rhoam's look of confusion, sighed. "Nevermind. I know you dislike politics."

Rhoam did not pursue any further, though he was hurt by her rebuff. He could not recall the exact advisor that Zelda spoke of and knew that there was little he could say to soothe her. Abandoning the book that he had been half-heartedly trying to read, Rhoam pulled back the curtain of his carriage window and peered out at the landscape beyond. The rain was oppressive now, and he could see no further than a few feet from the carriage. Otra rode beside the wagon, his helm worn closed to keep the rain from his eyes.

There was a sudden groan beneath them, and the carriage shuddered to a halt, lurching to the side. Rhoam shot out a hand to steady his wife and child, though the babe did not stir.

"She's fine, she's fine," Zelda said. "What was that?"

Rhoam looked out the window once more. The carriage was slanted towards the left, seemingly sunk into the mud. There was shouting between the Knights and the driver.

"I'll go find out," Rhoam said, unlatching the handle of the carriage door.

"No, don't. It's raining," Zelda protested, studying the scene beyond the window - though little could be seen.

"What could possibly be out there?" Rhoam quipped. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the rain, landing on the mud with a hard squelch.

"Welcome, Your Majesty," Sir Otra said wryly. He was squatting down by the side of the carriage. "Wheel's stuck, but the mud is too soft to move the carriage. The wheel won't turn."

"We can start digging now," Sir Theo suggested, but Otra shook his head.

"We can, but the Queen and the Princess are in the carriage. It'd be easier without them inside, and I won't make them stand in the rain."

"Oh, but we must," Theo pouted. "I guess we can't all be given a crown."

"We aren't royalty," Otra said, giving Theo a disapproving look. Rhoam watched the exchange with bewilderment. Did even the Knights dislike him now?

A blistering rumble of thunder tore through the air, and a tree in the far distance was set alight. From the commotion of a flock of bird took flight, and Rhoam could make out the faint shape of a wild horse fleeing towards them, spooked by the noise. The Knights continued to argue over what to do, but Rhoam was not hearing them. The horse was drawing closer, and with every step its size grew, its long mane flowing in the wind. On its back seemed to be a rider, he realised, carrying an enormous blade and a broad shield. But then Rhoam saw that the mane was blood red and that it belonged to the rider, and not the horse.

He felt himself seise; from fear, or anticipation, he wasn't sure. The rain poured down, but the thunder was replaced by the thundering of hooves and the drumming of his heart. The word burst from him.

" _Lynel!_ "

Otra and Theo moved in unison, understanding the threat immediately. The beast had seen them and was closing in with unearthly speed - charging directly towards the carriage where Rhoam's wife and child waited.

"We need to move the wheelhouse!" Theo cried.

"There's no time," Otra said, drawing his spear. Calmly, he moved to face the Lynel, and after a moment's hesitation, Theo followed suit. Rhoam looked from the carriage to the beast and back again.  _I will not be left out of this._

He held out his hand, gesturing to Otra's spare sword, and the southerner gave it willingly. The Lynel was in range now and slowed to size them up.

"We need to spread out," Theo said. "They breathe fire. We need to direct it away from the carriage!"

Rhoam nodded to Theo, and the group split up; Theo circled around north, with Otra and Rhoam heading south. As he ran, Rhoam saw that the Lynel carried a bronze shield, as well as a long spear.

"Goddess be damned," he called to Otra. " _Another_  spear wielder."

"Remember what I said-" Otra began, but Rhoam's attention was drawn away by the Lynel. It had reared, mouth wide as it inhaled, and a moment later, great bursts of fire were hurtling towards them across the field. Rhoam ducked and dived, running for the beast. He could hear Otra shouting,  _wait, Rhoam, stop_ , but he didn't care. He had never fought a Lynel, and could not quell his excitement.

Drawing Otra's short sword, Rhoam rolled under another ball of fire, landing on his feet to face the creature. He raised his sword, ready to attack, only to catch a heft of the Lynel's shield with his chest. He was thrown prostrate, tumbling through the mud, with a consuming pain filling his chest and the sound of hooves against the ground all around him. He gaped and gasped, fighting to breathe let alone stand, but managed to haul himself up to his feet. When he looked back towards the Lynel, Otra had intercepted it and was a beast in his own right with his spear. They were toe to toe, dancing back and forth on the mud, the metal of their spears singing with each strike.

There was a whip-like whoosh through the air, and the Lynel was struck in the neck by a thin arrow. Both Rhoam and Otra looked; across the way, Theo had loosed a single arrow on the Lynel. Its attention was on the Akkalan then, its spear and shield stowed. It charged towards him, but Theo managed to dodge, lining up another shot as the Lynel passed. With a suddenness that was almost unfathomable, the creature spun, reared, and crashed down on top of the Akkalan. Theo went down without a shout, the breastplate of his armour caving in with a terrible crunch.

"Theo!" Otra screamed, and Rhoam felt winded once more. They stood and stared, helpless and hopeless, as the Lynel roared down at the Akkalan, rearing once more.

Fighting through his shock, Rhoam's mind moved into action. The fight suddenly felt familiar. He recalled Otra's voice, taunting him.  _Use your wits_.  _However many you have._

Rhoam looked back to the carriage - to where his wife and child sat defenselessly. Otra was readying himself to charge at the beast, his spear drawn, wiping the mud from his face.

"Wait!" Rhoam cried, unsure what his next words would be.  _Use your wits_ , he heard again. Why did it all seem so familiar? A charging beast? A spear wielder? And then he knew.

Rhoam stumbled forward, managing to reach his friend, grasping him by the shoulder before he made his charge. "Otra! Wait! I know what to do!"

The southerner stopped, though he did not draw his attention from the Lynel. It had stood once more, and was turning its attention back to them, and then to the carriage.

"Draw it here!" Rhoam instructed. "Strike it as it passes and then  _move_! Do as Theo did, but move out of the way!"

Finally, Otra broke his attention from the beast. "I-I don't understand."

"Just trust me!"

"Why?!"

Rhoam could hardly believe the words that came to mind. On the other side of the field, the Lynel was advancing on the carriage. "Because I am your King."

Otra could argue no more. He drew his bow and loosed an arrow towards the Lynel to attract its attention. It struck the beast in the side and indeed had the intended effect; the Lynel turned, roared, and began charging towards them. Rhoam positioned himself some way behind Otra, in line with the beast. His chest had stopped hurting.  _Goddess preserve us_ , he thought to himself as the beast drew ever closer.

Otra waited until the last possible moment, and as instructed, Otra dodged the barrelling Lynel, whipping his bow around to strike the beast as it passed. As before, the Lynel reared, but Otra leapt backwards out of its reach.

Heart pounding in his bruised chest, Rhoam surged forward. He leapt as high as he could, landing on the Lynel's back, his free hand diving into its mane to steady himself. The Lynel bucked furiously, thrashing its head to try and free itself, but Rhoam held on and with all of his strength, drove his sword into the Lynel's neck. A strangled, gurgling sound came from the creature, and Rhoam was bucked off as its thrashed in pain. Soon, however, it fell limp and collapsed with an enormous thud. Gathering himself up, Rhoam realised the rain had stopped. When he stood, the first things his eyes met were Zelda's, as she burst from the carriage and gazed at him in shock.

* * *

The rest of the journey passed in silence. The Queen had sent Otra back to Hyrule with Theo's body, as they were only half a day's ride from Kakariko.  _If anything else comes for us, we know the King is not defenceless,_ she had said. The incident darkened her mood even further, but when Rhoam tried to talk to her, or to place a gentle hand on her shoulder, she turned away.

Rhoam remembered clearly the first time he had been to Kakariko. It was a village almost entirely shielded. A dark and sombre place, but peaceful too. Before his marriage to Zelda, he had never seen it before - had never even known of its existence.

"The Sheikah and the Hyrulean Royals have a long, long history," Zelda had told him during their first visit. "They are not well understood in Hyrule, but we keep faith with them."

 _Perhaps they would be better understood if they did not lock themselves away_ , Rhoam could not help but think. The isolation of the place haunted him. Zelda seemed to like it, however, greeting the people readily as they entered the village. Two little girls, both with white hair, ran up to her on their approach. The two children clambered to see the baby swaddled in the Queen's arms. The little princess slept, blissfully unaware of the previous upheaval to her journey.

"Can we see her? Can we see her?" they chimed in unison.

"Impa, Purah!" the Queen beamed, looking to the elder and then the younger child. "Where is your mother? We've come to show her the little Princess."

Once the girls had been given a look at the Princess, they led them to a central house high up on stilts, where Elder Soklee was waiting for them.

"Revered Elder Soklee, we present to you our daughter - Princess Zelda of Hyrule," the Queen said, laying the babe at the Elder's feet.

Soklee was only a decade older than Rhoam, he remembered. She was the youngest leader of Kakariko Village, having taken the reigns ten years ago at just thirty-five years old.  _The same age as I am_.

The elder took Zelda into her arms and sat back on her dais before an ancient looking tapestry, one of the many that told of the legends of old Hyrule.

The elder ran a finger along the babe's tiny arm, and the Princess stirred. "Ah, there you are," Soklee grinned. "She will be strong. Like her mother. Stubborn too. Like her father."

Zelda stifled a small laugh, though Rhoam was not impressed. Elder Soklee sensed the tension, adding, "Perhaps,  _resolute_  is a better term."

The Queen changed the topic. "Does her name carry your blessing? It is traditional."

"Tradition is a thing to be cherished, Your Majesty," Soklee responded. She looked to Rhoam. " _Change_  is what undoes us."

"That reminds me, Soklee," Zelda said. "My Sheikah Ambassador-"

At once, the Elder's disposition soured. "He is gone. He is not  _your_  ambassador any longer, nor is he anyone's."

 _Politics_. Rhoam decided this was the best time to excuse himself. He went down to the pond at the centre of the village, to where a newly carved Goddess statue sat. He recalled then his promise to himself to be better. Strangely, it had not faded. There was a determination now. He  _could_  apply himself; the fight with the Lynel showed that.

After an hour's quarter turn, Zelda emerged from the house with the Princess back in her arms. She met Rhoam by the fountain, as the babe began to stir and squal.

"Hush...hush…" the Queen whispered. "It's just the Goddess; she needs to meet you too."

At the sound of her mother's voice, the baby calmed and was soon dozing once again.

"You're a natural with her," Rhoam said. "Though, she is strangely well-behaved."

"She's a Princess," The Queen smiled. "And she's all I've ever wanted. Someone to share my burden with. Someone to love completely."

 _And I am not that someone_. The thought brought Rhoam sorrow, and he realised then that he was tired of not being enough, of being laughed at, of being useless.

"That attack was unprecedented," Zelda said suddenly. "A Lynel, this close to Kakariko? It's an omen, just like the ones that Mala-that my advisors spoke of."

"An omen of what?"

"I do not know. But, I was thinking, on the way here that-"

"Four, rather, three is not enough," Rhoam said, a note of sadness in his voice. He sensed that, for once, he and his Queen agreed, and when she nodded he knew he was right.

"Three," she echoed wistfully. "Three Knights for an entire Kingdom, and Lynels roaming so close to settlements. If something were to happen - like that legend from all those years ago - we would be massacred. We  _need_  more."

"Otra could lead them," Rhoam suggested. "Create a new order."

"No - Otra will need to train them.  _You_  will lead them."

Rhoam blinked at her, unsure if she was serious or merely taunting him. "...me?" he said, lips quivering. "My father was Battlemaster a decade ago but-"

The Queen's conviction told him that she was indeed serious. "And you will have your own Battlemaster, but  _you_  must oversee the new order."

"I wouldn't know anything about leading, surely there is some other protocol for-"

"I don't care what protocol says!" the Queen hissed, and once more Rhoam felt rendered small. "You cannot ignore your responsibilities any longer, Rhoam. We have a daughter now, and so you  _will_  lead."

Rhoam looked down at baby Zelda. She was awake now, emerald eyes gazing up at them idly, but had not been disturbed by their argument.

"You're right," he breathed. "We do have a daughter," He ran a hand across the top of the babe's head. "A daughter I want to protect."

The Queen leaned in close, her head resting against Rhoam's chest. "She deserves us at our best."

"Then she will always have you," Rhoam said meekly. "It's me she needs to worry about. The lazy, layabout father."

"Lazy, layabout King, you mean," Zelda teased.

"Ah - so I am not completely worthless," Rhoam chuckled. "Well, if the Goddess is good, little Zelda will favour her mother."

Zelda moved away, her face shadowed, seeming somehow regretful. "Rhoam...listen, I know we haven't always gotten along but...I...I want us to be a family, for her sake."

"Then we can at least try," Rhoam said. "Starting now. I will lead the new Knights, just as you suggested."

"Thank you. It will help me feel safe if nothing else. Are you worried about what happened?"

"Very much so. But if I have you two, then everything will be fine."

Rhoam placed an arm around her, and the family huddled together by the Goddess statue as a light afternoon shower broke through the clouds above.

"Everything will be fine," Zelda repeated to their daughter, and under the silent eyes of the Goddess statue, Rhoam almost believed that to be true.

* * *

_One Hundred and Twenty Years Later_

* * *

The bard was where Zelda had expected him to be - in the dining hall, surrounded by patrons, accordion in hand as he sang songs of Hyrule, both old and new. Cooks and servants, soldiers and retainers all crowded around the singer to listen. When they saw that Zelda had entered the hall, they all turned to bow. Zelda thanked them with a small nod before bidding them rise. Modesty had left her; once she would have laughed off their reverence, but now she understood its importance.  _I cannot be both Queen and commoner._ She was not, no matter how much she would have prefered it, one of them.

Zelda handed Kass the note, and he studied it thoroughly;  _Fill these pages well, Rhoam. As well as fate deigns to allow._ Ultimately, however, he admitted to having no idea who could have written it. "Beyond the obvious theories of course; an advisor perhaps?"

"But surely your teacher spoke of the court," Zelda pressed. "Perhaps he might have talked about Rhoam's journal."

Kass shrugged. "Perhaps, but Lexo was very private about his life at court, as I'm sure you can understand."

Zelda did not need him to clarify; Lexo had been a Shiekah poet and bard, and Kass' teacher after the Calamity. But Zelda had known him before, as she had known the other Sheikah. Their presence at court had been a point of contention for as long as Zelda could remember.

Kass however, did have one suggestion. "Perhaps you need to uncover more than just Rhoam's journal. It has significant gaps, does it not?

"Indeed. There is a six-year gap between the first and second entry," Zelda answered. She had dated the entries herself and found that they spanned at least seventeen years.

"I wonder what spurred him on to begin writing again. What was his second entry, if I may ask?"

Zelda knew without even needing to check. "The day my mother died."

"I see," Kass frowned. "My apologies, and my condolences."

Zelda held up the note again. She forced herself to slow - to consider.  _Fill these pages well, Rhoam_. Who else would call her father by his real name? Who else would have access to his journal?And more importantly,  _what_  else could be so important to him, that he had recorded nothing else in six years, but the loss of the Queen?

"My mother wrote this," Zelda said, with full clarity. "She was the start of it all. After she died, he wrote every day."

"I'd wager there are more mysteries to be unravelled from that book, no?" the bard said. "A history of your father's reign would be an incredible resource."

What an idea - pulling together a memoir of the Hyrule that existed before the Calamity. There was so much that Zelda had forgotten, and so much that she had not seen, or had not been old enough to understand. Her father's journal was just the start. As she pondered, Kass had begun to play a song; it was newer than the others, a little more mournful and nostalgic.  _The Champion's Ballad._ Their faces flashed before her; Goron vigilience, Gerudo spirit, Rito confidence, Zora grace. 

The Champions had their diaries. They had their own stories, just like her father. So much had been hidden from her, when Zelda was just a child. She could regain it, somehow. 

"Are you still feeling anxious?" Kass asked her, sensing her thoughts. "For your Kingdom?"

"More than anything," Zelda admitted, but it was without sorrow. The idea the bard had given her was a kindling to a greater flame. It was the purpose she had been looking for. "But I know my father felt the same. I know they all did. Who better to guide us than them?"

"The Champions?"

Zelda nodded, now resolute on the path ahead. "If they had a story to tell, I will find it." She departed the Dining Hall to return to the Library, ready to begin regardless of the time, and knew she would not sleep that night.


	2. Daruk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com). Extended notes for Chapters 1 and 2 posted at the end.

_ I’ve taken to completely ignoring any doubts I have. It’s the only way I can sleep. _

King Rhoam’s Diary, Entry #25

* * *

Queen and Knight-Captain rode two abreast through New Castle Town, with a retinue of soldiers and would-be knights following behind. Zelda tried unsuccessfully to ride without lifting a hand to steady her crown every few moments, but the gold-plated, emerald-encrusted ornament would not stay in place. Crowns were rarely practical, she had learned. And neither was royal regalia.

Link, however, was not dressed nearly as extravagantly. He was bound for the desert after all, where the difference between a manageable journey and an arduous one was the make of one's clothes. While Zelda envied his freedom, she did not envy his task; her own trips to Gerudo Desert in the past had not been ones to remember fondly.

As they passed through the bustling town, all sorts of residents came running onto the streets to greet and wave. From her white mare, Zelda noted with some satisfaction that the residents were a mixture of all the races in Hyrule.  _It was not like this in Father's day_ , she mused. Careful negotiations had been needed to inspire such diversity in the new capital - trade deals, monetary incentives and the like - all conducted in the far-flung strongholds of each race, Zelda having made the long journeys herself - an inefficient strategy, one she hoped to change with a centralised Hyrulean Council. Would that it were so simple.

"They love you _,_ " Link said, surveying the waving crowd.

"They love peace and prosperity. It is not  _me_  that they love," Zelda insisted as she waved back, trying and failing once more not to fuss over her crown. "I am no more special than any of them."

Link gave her a concerned look but said nothing more. Eventually, the party crossed through the gates of Castle Town and out into the lush fields beyond, which were flecked now with the first hints and hues of autumn. As their retinue waited, Link and Zelda dismounted to say their goodbyes.

"You really trust me on my own?" he asked her.

"Always," Zelda promised, tempted to go with him. A brief memory of the searing, unwelcoming desert put her off the idea immediately. "And Chief Riju trusts you, more than she does me. What we are asking of her is akin to unearthing a grave."

"The Gerudo don't bury their dead," Link corrected, this piece of trivia earning him no more than an unamused frown.

"Metaphor aside, you have a better chance alone," Zelda said.

"I'm sure Riju is old enough to forgive a grudge."

"Perhaps, but I brought an army to her doorstep," Zelda reminded him, recalling the Zora siege of the Geldarm Bridge into Gerudo just over a year prior, caused by Zelda's own political clumsiness. "Not exactly a small grudge."

Link bit his lip to hide his childish grin. "It wasn't exactly a small army." Zelda gave him a gentle shove.

"Go on Hero, head south," she instructed. "Before I tire of your wits."

Link bowed, and not minding that the other travellers were watching, he quickly caught her lips with a passionate, if somewhat rushed kiss. Zelda wanted to hold him steady, savour him, but time was short, and so she let him go. Link remounted his horse, gave a shout to his retinue, and began on his way towards the desert.

Waiting to meet Zelda at the Castle gates was Chief Advisor Larella, a Zoran woman as patient and astute as she was elegant. They were soon joined by a white-feather Rito, hurriedly soaring in from the east. He landed before them with practised ease and gave a customary bow, adjusting the thin spectacles that he wore as he rose.

"Morning's welcome, Your Majesty," he said, before nodding to Larella, "Chief Advisor."

"Battlemaster," Zelda and Larella said in unison, with Zelda adding, "How was the wind, Teba?"

"Ah, same as it always is," he scowled, squinting as he surveyed the state of the Castle grounds before him. "You practice while I was gone?"

"Every day," Zelda answered. "Bow and sword."

"As well as writing letters, reading histories, touring the grounds and repairs, overseeing the Knights-in-training," Larella added. "We haven't had a moment's rest."

"Good, just the way we like it," Teba said, passing Zelda an almost undetectably sly smile.

Greetings made, they headed into the Castle, passing through the throne room to descend into the winding, maze-like corridors of the Castle itself. As they drew near to the Royal Apartments, the austere stone and masonry gave way to rich, velvet lined walls and plush carpets, flanked by oil portraits and maps and all kinds of paraphernalia, both old and new. As they approached Zelda's private study, she found she could not wait any longer to ask.

"Well, good news or bad news, Teba?"

The Battlemaster sighed. "Bad. Bludo won't leave Eldin."

The Gorons, immovable as always.

"I won't call a council until we have a representative from each race," Zelda asserted, a stance she had made sure Teba would communicate to the Gorons. "What about Yunobo?"

"A bard through and through." Teba clicked his beak in disapproval. "They have no idea where he is."

"Then it's a good thing that  _I_ do," Larella interjected. She turned the handle to the study, opening it to reveal a broad-faced Goron waiting patiently for them. "He arrived this morning, while you were seeing off Master Link."

"Yunobo!" Zelda beamed.

"Princess- I mean!  _My Queen_!" the Goron Champion beamed back, correcting himself immediately. He bowed clumsily, his heavy pack nearly shifting off of his shoulders as he did.

"Your scouts tracked him to Hyrule Ridge," Larella explained.

"Well I'll be plucked," Teba chuckled. "They're better than I'd imagined."

Zelda turned her attention back to the eager Goron before her. "Kass tells me you went looking for stories of your people. My father wrote of a Goron Civil Crisis, but I am looking for  _Daruk's_  side."

Yunobo's face lit up immediately with recognition. He unshouldered and began rummaging through his pack. "That's too easy Princ- _I mean_ -Your Majesty." He found what he was looking for, and triumphantly showed her a handful of papers, covered in messy scrawl. "I met someone who was  _there_!"

Zelda eyed the papers suspiciously. "...but the Civil Crisis was over a hundred years ago."

" _You_  were alive then," Teba said pointedly. "Stranger things have occurred."

"Might I remind you of the real reason we contacted Yunobo," Larella piped up, dampening Yunobo's excitement. Zelda pushed the papers back towards him.

"Larella is right - I need a Goron Councillor. It need not be you. But I need someone."

Yunobo scratched his chin, thinking hard. "I can help," he announced. "But I can help best from home."

"Then we go to Eldin," Zelda decided immediately. "Teba, Larella, remain here. Rule in my stead. And I must applaud you two," she smiled at her Chief Advisor and Battlemaster. "You work so well together that I could swear you share some ancient ancestry."

She turned back to Yunobo, ushering him from the study. "Come, we can trade tales on our journey."

* * *

_One Hundred and Fourteen Years Earlier_

* * *

"What's the matter, Mother?" the Princess asked, looking up from her book. Always perceptive, the child had noticed something was wrong before anyone else - even the Queen's own husband.

Queen Zelda put down her quill. She had been sitting at a desk in their private drawing room, attempting to pen a letter to Elder Soklee of Kakariko Village, but no words would come.

"Nothing, little bird, I'm just deep in thought," she answered, turning to where her husband and daughter sat together on a chaise lounge. The Princess had been reading aloud to her Father, strangely from a book of ornithology, though Rhoam did not seem bored by it.

Ever curious, Princess Zelda pressed further, "Is it about someone we know?"

"Incidentally, it is. An old friend. They went away, a few years ago, and recently returned."

Rhoam was staring at her then, his brow knitted tight.  _Who?_  He mouthed. The Queen shook her head.  _You don't know him_ , she wanted to mouth back. The Princess was not done.

"Where did they go?" she asked.

"I don't know," the Queen admitted.  _Where_ did _you go, Malachi?_  She wondered.

The Princess seemed to sense Zelda's sorrow. "Were you lonely without your friend?" she asked, and a wispy laugh escaped the Queen's lips.

She put down her quill; it had no use here - nor should it, on such a rare and peaceful morning, when for once the Queen could be alone and idle with her family. She stood, leaving the desk, the sudden weight she felt giving her a start. Once more she was with child, and this pregnancy had been a greater strain than the first. On swollen feet, the Queen ambled over to her family, sitting down with her daughter on the chaise.

"I am never lonely. I have you, don't I?" she said, wrapping an arm around the Pincess. Rhoam was smiling down at them both. Tenderly, he reached across to the Queen and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

" _And_  your father," the Queen added. "With love, we are never alone." She took Princess Zelda's hand. "Come, it's such a nice day, why don't we go down to the water? We might see one of our new boats! You can take your book; we might see some birds."

"Or some Rito," Rhoam teased, garnering a laugh from the Princess. "Your mother has them flying all across the kingdom!"

The Queen rolled her eyes as she moved to stand.

But this time, her body would not go where her mind willed. In a rush that felt like a crashing wave, her senses were overwhelmed; her vision blurred, her head became leaden and her legs jelly. The weight was too much, and a great spasm in her stomach sent the Queen tumbling to the floor.

She heard her daughter scream and her husband cry out, and the next moment she was in darkness.

When next the Queen opened her eyes, she saw Rhoam's concerned face. He smiled, his whole body heaving with relief, and turned to call to someone she could not see.

"The baby?" Queen croaked, and Rhoam nodded.

"He's on his way. The nurses are here," he said. "You and the baby are going to be okay."

Rhoam had his hand around hers, and she felt the warmth of his calloused skin. Seeing him put her at ease, until she remembered, "Your journal, Rhoam…find it..." the Queen breathed, feeling herself slip underneath once again. "Where is our daughter?"

"Safe. Unaware," the King answered.

"Good, good," Zelda said, and she closed her eyes.

* * *

When the midwives and Apothecary Willem had forced him from the room, Rhoam knew that the worst was about to come to pass.  _We need peace_ , they told him.  _Let us save her_.

Still, he hoped. Still, he believed.

When they called him back in, it took all his might to stand, all his will to walk through that door, and to look, and to see. It was a force of the divine that made him sit at her side on that cursed bed and take her hand into his.

"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," Apothecary Willem began. Behind him, his midwives fidgeted and stirred like a flock of sparrows. "The fever, she was already weak, and the child-"

"The child?" Rhoam's voice cracked, and for the first time, he looked away from his wife's face. Bundled up by the side of the bed, in a tiny cot, was what appeared to be a doll. Unmoving, asleep.

Willem spoke plainly. "He did not live."

Rhoam looked back at his wife. He reached forward to adjust her braid, though for what purpose he could not fathom. She was like a painting now. Unblemished. At peace.

He bade the Apothecary leave and return at nightfall, and alone with his wife and son - the portraits of their former selves - Rhoam allowed himself to weep.

* * *

Days and weeks all melted together into moments only half-lived and half-remembered. The Queen and her son were taken to Kakariko Village to be buried, in a quiet ceremony attended by Rhoam, Princess Zelda, and Elder Soklee. It was a Royal Tradition apparently; one of many that seemed to be cropping up now that Rhoam was the sole ruler. The kingdom mourned the death of Queen Zelda, bringing flowers of every colour to the Castle Gates, shutting down the taverns, and gathering in the town square, in Hyrule Cathedral, on the banks of Hylia River.

A month after the Queen was buried, Rhoam stood on the battlements of Hyrule Castle with Otra, his esteemed Battlemaster. They looked out across the ramparts, at the now impossibly empty kingdom. Without Zelda, even in its twilight splendour, it rang hollow.

The Battlemaster appraised him harshly. Age had begun to temper Otra, inuring him against the frivolities of Royal life. He spoke directly. "You look a mess."

"I am mess," Rhoam admitted. He did not dwell on the long, sleepless nights or the undignified hours he had spent crying, alone in his private study, afraid to come out into the light for fear of being burned by it. "But...I think she knew I would feel this way," he added, thinking on the note he had found left for him in his journal.

"And what way is that?" Otra asked.

"Pissed off," Rhoam grumbled. "I never knew how much work she did, how much bullshit she dealt with from those advisors of hers, or how well she managed it all."

"Well, it belongs to you now," Otra advised.

"It belongs to me," Rhoam echoed. He felt, if not a determination, then at least an obligation to make the best of such a fate. He took another long look at the kingdom below, at  _Zelda's_ kingdom.

"This is an age of prosperity, Otra," he said. "I will not see it squandered. At least, not by my own hand."  _I owe you that much_.

His old friend gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "You have my support, Rhoam; you always will."

Rhoam accepted the gesture with a weak  _thanks_ , feeling no better. Just as he was preparing to return to his refuge within the Castle, a somewhat exasperated looking messenger arrived on the ramparts.

"Your Majesty, Battlemaster, my apologies. There is a visitor. H-he is insisting, and he will not leave," the messenger was frantic, occasionally passing a glance over his shoulder.

"Is he a beast?" Otra quipped monotonously. "Coming to eat you whole?"

The messenger looked entirely unsure, and so, reluctantly, Rhoam went to the throne room to meet with this strange man. The visitor was a tall and lithe Sheikah, with silvery hair and a strangely youthful face. He was not dressed in traditional Sheikah garb, but rather more like a drifter, a long Hylian hood fastened around his shoulders and a high collared tunic rising up to his chin. When Rhoam entered, he found the man examining the carved stone slab at the room's centre with great interest.

"Ah - Your Majesty," the man bowed low. He spoke with warmth and an intimacy that put Rhoam at unease. "My sincerest condolences. Queen Zelda was truly irreplaceable."

"Have we met?" Rhoam asked cautiously.

The man was not wounded. "My name is Malachi, former ambassador to Hyrule from Kakariko Village."

"Former?"

"I will admit - I was exiled. By my people," Malachi said openly. "I want no secrets between us."

"And why are you here?"

"Why, I was a friend of your wife!"

Malachi spoke as though it were an inherent truth, and that made Rhoam suspect the man even more. He narrowed his eyes. "My wife had few friends."

"I was one of them, I assure you."

"...but you were exiled?"

"Let's not dwell on the past," Malachi waved away the concerns as though swatting a fly. At once, his demeanour changed, his face darkening and his grey eyes flashing with exuberance. Malachi took a step forward. Rhoam took a step back. "My message to you is urgent. Change is coming, Hyrule King. A new regime. I have seen it, in the cards."

"So you're a fortune teller now?" Rhoam jeered. Malachi took another step forward.

"Indeed, a service I performed for your wife. A service I know she would wish me to perform for you."

Rhoam took another step back. "I do not know you," he warned.

Malachi was not deterred. His face grew wilder, his voice higher. "You need them, as they need you!"

"Who?!" Rhoam stepped back once more, pressing up against the wall of the throne room.

"I will tell you if you allow me to help you," the Sheikah proclaimed. "It is what Zelda would have wanted!" he jolted forward, seising Rhoam by the shoulders. Terrified, the King shoved Malachi backwards, sending him so far so fast that he seemed to glide against the marble.

"Enough! Stop this madness! How dareyou!" Rhoam bellowed. "My wife only a month in the ground, and you come here, a stranger, speaking her name in this way! Get out! Get  _out_!"

The fortune teller gathered himself up, indignantly adjusting his high collar. For a long time, the men stared at each, both too stunned to move, until Malachi bowed once more.

"You cannot outrun fate, You Majesty. If you have need of me - and I know you will - I will be waiting." At last, the fortune teller gathered fled the Throne Room, leaving Rhoam to ponder the exchange had indeed occurred, or if his grief and exhaustion had finally begun to play with his mind. Spent, and a little embarrassed, he made for the Royal Apartments.

When he returned to his bedchamber, he found little Zelda sitting quietly by her mother's dresser, her hands clasped over her chest.

"Little one," Rhoam said. "What are you doing in here?"

"Praying, I think," the girl said. "Mother said that was important for the powers."

Rhoam knelt by his daughter, stooping to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "It might be. Regardless, Mama left you and me a lot of work to do."

The little Princess nodded. "I'm ready."

Rhoam however, was not so sure.  _Am I?_ He thought.

* * *

The Sheikah Laboratory west of Hyrule Castle was sturdy and unassuming, built of the characteristic Hateno redbrick and boasting a single chimney on its northern face. Moss and vines crept up along the walls, and the windows were small and narrow as if the building were squinting sceptically.

King Rhoam had gone to the lab early in the morning, bringing Sir Micah of Hateno with him. Chief Advisor Voswann would not be roused before dawn, Otra was busy breaking in new recruits, and Rhoam did not want to travel alone. His meeting with Malachi had caused him to realise that he was completely unaware of what the Sheikah actually  _did_  - only that they were secretive, and not well liked.

"Do you know what are they researching here?" Micah asked as they walked through the laboratories, past papers and strangely carved stones and ominous blue lights.

"Ancient Sheikah history, perhaps?" Rhoam answered, genuinely unsure. "I admit this was more Zelda's interest than mine. She had close ties with the Sheikah."

"Her father…" Micah began.

"A Sheikah warrior, yes. Prince Moran," A curious man, Rhoam recalled, though he had never met him. The Prince Consort had died when Zelda was very young, but the Queen had always spoken lovingly of him.

"Tell me, Micah, what do  _you_  think of the Sheikah?" Rhoam asked the Knight.

"Well, they have their odd fellows," Micah said after a moment in thought. "But… I think we can trust them. They are our oldest allies."

"Certainly," Rhoam agreed, examining a carved stone slab on a bench before him. He could not read the strange, square-faced runes. "Because I was thinking of sending Zelda to them."

"To… Kakariko?" Micah asked. Rhoam detected some disagreement in his voice. He was the oldest of the Hylian Knights, and it was beginning to show - a wrinkle here and there, a touch of grey in his already ashen hair.  _Am I old so soon, as well?_

"You have a young boy, don't you, Micah?" Rhoam recalled.

"Indeed I do. Link, a rambunctious little man. I'll be sending him to Otra in a few years," The Knight had a warm, far off look in his eyes. It was hardly more than a smile, but the sight of it threatened to rend Rhoam's already broken spirit into pieces.

"You love him, I can see that. But, do you want to know something terrible?" Rhoam did not allow the Knight to answer, could not stop the admission. "I can't even look at Zelda. She favours her mother, you see. And so I find that her presence alone fills me with some kind of ridiculous, blind fury."

Micah's cheerful expression was gone, wiped clean from his face. Rhoam could not look but felt the pitying glare.

"Perhaps… you ought to go away too," Micah suggested. "Not forever, just...on a tour. That's what I always liked about being a Knight. If I wanted to leave, I could just take an assignment in the far country."

Rhoam envied the man's freedom. "Voswann  _has_  been trying to get me to go on some dreadful tour," he mused.

Soon day had broken over the mountains. The Sheikah Laboratories would soon be occupied. As they departed back towards the Castle, Rhoam turned his eyes towards Eldin and Death Mountain at its centre. A rocky, burning hellscape? It was the furthest thing from Hyrule Castle that there was - but Rhoam was not just some wandering Knight, able to disappear into the wild.

He would stay, he decided, even if it meant doing nothing.

* * *

As the morning sun bathed Eldin in its glow, Daruk of Goron City pushed open his front door to meet the day with a wide grin. Already the rocks underfoot were hot, and the air was sizzling against his skin - just as he liked it.

He looked back over his shoulder at the sleeping young Goron still snoring away in the house. "Hey, Orroth, up and at 'em!"

The young Goron did not stir, so Daruk went back inside. He knelt down beside the sleeping boy and gave him a shake. "C'mon son, the big glowing rock is in the sky, goro!"

Orroth sluggishly opened his eyes and immediately covered his face with his hands. "I'm up!" he groaned. "Gimme one minute."

Daruk bounded back to his feet. "Last one up has to crush granddad's breakfast," He marched over to the stairs leading up to the rock house's modest loft. "Hey, Pa!" he called. "Ready for your breakfast?"

"Daaad!" Orroth droned, finally pulling himself out of bed, stopping by the kitchen before tottering upstairs to give his grandfather his breakfast.

"No, no! Don't bother!" came the grizzly shout from the loft, sending the still half-comatose Orroth plodding back down the stairs. "No use wasting your youth on an old boulder like me." Daruk's father, Harek, descended into view, braiding his wiry beard as climbed down the stairs. Upon seeing Daruk, he grumbled, "Ah, speaking of wasted youth."

"Morning Pa, I'm about to head off," Daruk smiled, ignoring his father's insult. He knuckled Orroth in the shoulder. "Keep an eye on this one, he's so lively it's like he has lava in his belly!"

"Another day as just a rock crusher?" Harek asked, the question laced with tired disapproval.

"I'm right where I want to be," Daruk told him. His father followed him out of the house and out of earshot from Orroth. He grabbed Daruk on the shoulder, strong-arming him into place.

"But is your son?" he whispered harshly. Daruk shrugged off the remark and marched away towards the Northern Mines.

A tremendous heady mist was rising off of the scattered rocky outcrops leading into the mine, and the air was filled with the gooping, sludgy sounds of the lava rivers that snaked their way between, under, and sometimes over the paths. Looming high above was Death Mountain itself, the source of all life, and heat, and ore. Daruk could think of nothing finer, or anywhere else that he would rather be.

A motley group of miners and workers had gathered around the entrance; Daruk was surprised to find the Boss, Boten, standing with the other men. The portly old Goron opened his thick arms wide when he saw Daruk.

"There he is! Employee of the month - no, the year!" Lord Boten let out a huge belly laugh, his thickly woven beard swaying. "Tell everyone about that time you saved my life!"

Daruk didn't know what to say. He had some strange power that let him protect others, and so he'd used it. Nothing worth bragging about. Boten laughed, "He doesn't remember! You boys could learn from this one. He does as he's told, and he never talks back!"

The other Gorons all mumbled some kind of agreement. Daruk quickly saddled up next to Akje, one of the other rock crushers. Standing by Lord Boten was Ragnor, his younger brother, and Ragnor's group of minions. They were bullheaded and vicious, sycophants who latched onto the Boss' younger brother for wealth and protection. Lord Boten called his brother forward to pry open the oft-jammed door into the mines, a feat which had the other Gorons murmuring in admiration.

"Now, I'll be on inspection today," Boten announced as the Gorons filed into the mine. "So you'd better be on your best behaviour!"

They began their descent, the walls of the mine pressing in so close that they had to walk single file. "How's the little one, goro?" Akje asked, looking back over his shoulder to Daruk.

"Growing bigger, eating rocks," Daruk said with a shrug. "Pa says he's a natural with the ores, but I don't mind what he does, so long as he's stronger than his own Pa."

"That's a high bar to set, Daruk," Akje teased.

"What are you two banging on about?" came the snarling shout from Ragnor, who walked in front of Akje. "Take your pillow talk elsewhere, goro!"

The Gorons moved in unison, lining up in a long row against the walls of the mine, while the workers carted ore and stone back to the surface. The workday down below was long and hot, and there wasn't much excitement in breaking rocks, so the best way to chart the time was to chant.  _One, goro! Two, goro!_  Sometimes there was the added excitement of using some explosive powder to blow a hole in the rocks, but that was not very often, and so the chant would go on.  _Rock, goro! Crush, goro!_

Today the Boss wanted to test the demolition workers, and to make sure all those pesky safety protocols were being met to prevent all the workers - and more importantly the ore - from being blown sky high.

Daruk and Akje had been stationed near to the explosive stores, and so were able to watch the test, though Daruk noted with some disappointment that Ragnor was also stationed near them.

"Do you think it smells funny down here?" Daruk asked. Akje sniffed the air for a moment and then shook his head. Gorons did not have a fine sense of smell; perhaps Daruk had imagined it. He returned to his work as the mine shook and shuddered under the rumbling of Death Mountain itself.

Unphased by this normal occurrence, Boten went about inspecting the stores. He put down his oil lamp a good ten feet away from the storeroom and padded on over to view the barrels. The mine shook again, fine dust raining down along its walls. Once more, Daruk caught a whiff of the strange odour.

"Akje, Akje," he shook his friend's shoulder. "Listen, I'm certain there's something down here."

"Like what?" Akje said, his working rhythm upset. "What do you see?"

 _Nothing_ , Daruk thought. He only had his dulled senses to go off, but putting down his own Stone Smasher, Daruk caught a strange shimmer of light along the ground. Looking around, Daruk realised that Ragnor and some of the other miners had turned the heel, and were hurriedly leaving the mine. The mine shook again, Boten's oil lamp rattling in the distance He saw the shimmer once again, originating from where the lantern cast its light. At once, the smell became familiar.

"Oil!" Daruk cried, running for the explosives store, with the demolition workers waiting just outside. "It's oil! Boss!"

The mine tremored a final time in a thudding jolt that sent Daruk to his knees, and the lantern fell from the table. In a flash the oil was alight, mean licks of flame filling the tight corridor. The other workers cried out in alarm, their panicked shouts pulsing through the mine. Daruk could do nothing but hastily ball his hands into fists and drive them together with all of his might.

A sphere of shimmering protection, the hue of amber, appeared around him. At one moment, Daruk roared over his shoulder for Akje to retreat; in the next moment, the fire had found the storeroom; and, in the last, the mine exploded into blackness and dust.

* * *

For the first time in many years, Goron City went into an involuntary lockdown. Accidents happened; mining was dangerous. But to a Boss? And in this way?

Daruk found himself at the end of the day watching the sunset from the steps of his house, still dumbfounded and confused. The other Gorons had pulled him and Akje from the rubble of the collapsed mine, but they were the only ones near the explosion to survive. Daruk's father, of course, had to weigh in.

"Ack," Harek began by spitting. "If he were a real boss he wouldn't have died like that."

Daruk did not respond. "What do you mean?" a curious Orroth asked.

"Gorons have been miners for hundreds of years. We don't die like this - well, maybe silly rock crushers do - but not the Boss."

Daruk frowned. It  _was_  strange, his father had that right. The whole incident sat unwell in his gut, but he wasn't sure what to think. All he felt was raw guilt. The Boss had been right there; if Daruk had been quicker, he could have saved him, somehow.

"Something's happening in town," Orroth remarked, standing and craning his next to try and see. Focusing, Daruk heard that his son was right; fighting by the sound of it. He stood, scooping Orroth up onto his shoulders so that the boy could get a better look. "They're gathering outside Boten's house," Orroth told him. "Can we go see, Dad?"

His mind still in a tumble, Daruk agreed. He set Orroth down, and they rolled together towards Lord Boten's house to find out what the ruckus was. What they found was a crowd of the other Gorons, packed so tightly that Daruk could hardly see what they had gathered for. Daruk found a dejected Akje at the back of the crowd.

"What's happening?" Daruk asked.

"Ragnor and his thugs have taken over the boss's house, that's what," Akje spat.

"Already?" Daruk frowned. Leaving Orroth with Akje, he pushed his way through the crowd.

Standing outside the boss's house on a rock that made him tower over the rest of the Gorons, was Ragnor, flanked by his band of followers and trying his hardest to placate the crowd.

"This town needs a boss! I stood up first, and as Boten's brother, by rights, I should rule!" he boomed, addressing a crowd that was cheering and booing in equal measure.

The sight made Daruk's innards churn; the Boss was only half a day gone, and some greedy sack of sand had taken his place.

"The first thing we're gonna do is close down for a few days, while I figure out our next moves!" Ragnor announced. "But no one stops working!"

"Close down?" Daruk said with disbelief. "What do we do with the ore? We have orders to fill and-"

"Bring them all to me!" Ragnor demanded, gesturing forcefully to his minions. " _We_  will sort it out!"

When the crowd rustled again, Ragnor snarled once more, and they stopped. "If anyone has a problem with that, then let's sort it out," He beat a huge fist into his palm with a thunderous clap, "Face to face!"

At last, the crowd dispersed; no one would challenge Ragnor or his brute strength. Struggling the quell his rage, Daruk all but stomped back towards his house, and only once he heard the shrill laughter of a pair of youngling Gorons did he realise he had forgotten to take Orroth with him. Thankfully, he soon spotted his son chattering away with another young Goron near the Boss's house. Before he could reach Orroth however, one of Ragnor's thugs came marching along the path.

"Get out of the way, you little dusters!" he grunted. "It's near dark, goro. Go on, get!"

"We were just talking!" Orroth argued. "The sun's not even down yet!"

The brutish Goron gave him a sharp shove. "I. Said. Get! Lord Ragnor's orders!"

"Do that again!" Orroth threatened. "I dare you."

Daruk was running then, as fast as his knobbed legs could carry him. Ragnor's thug lifted his leg to kick Orroth down into the dirt, but just before the blow landed, the little Goron clapped his hands together, a glowing sphere in miniature appearing around him. Where the bigger Goron's leg contacted with the luminescence, the sphere shattered. Ragnor's Goron shrieked with pain.

"What the-what was that!?"

"It was nothing! Nothing!" Daruk shouted as he burst onto the scene, the words a threat to both his son and the thug. "Leave us alone, goro! We go if you go!"

With a huff and a mean scowl, the Ragnor's follower spun around and continued along the path. Orroth's friend had already scampered away, leaving Daruk alone with his son.

"I'm sorry," Orroth murmured. He was shaking as Daruk picked him up to ride on his shoulders. "I had to stand up to them, so I did what you taught me. They're so  _rude_. We have to do something right, Dad?"

"Yeah, we do," Daruk conceded, running a hand through his beard. "I just gotta figure out what."

* * *

The oncoming of Ragnor's new regime was as swift as it was brutal, somewhat like the man himself. As expected, he went largely unchallenged. And to the few who dared, he proclaimed himself the rightful ruler as Boten's younger brother, and then beat them into the dust - not always in that order.

Chief among the changes was the strange, sudden halting of all exports from the city. Lord Ragnor called it a sudden downturn in output from the mines and a need to shore up the Goron's reserves. He was rarely seen and rarely spoken to, except to announce plans to bring the Gorons into an age of glory. And all the while, Daruk and the other miners were worked all day, every day, from dawn to dusk.

Soon word stopped coming from Goron City - as did the gold and silver and other gems that Hyrule relied on for its currency. The only sign that the Gorons hadn't merely vanished were the rumbles of Death Mountain itself and the droning chants from deep down in the mines, should anyone in Eldin stop to listen.

Less important to Hyrule than the Gorons was their coin. Without it, Hyrule simply could not function; how could the traders trade with a scarce currency? How could the merchants sell? The buyers buy? The silence that came from Eldin also brought rumours of crisis, of some terrible fate, perhaps the  _death_  of Death Mountain, and in response, the people's grip on their purses grew tighter. The merchants found they had no customers. The labourers found they had no wages. The complaints rolled into the Castle. And tied down under the consuming weight of learning to rule - to  _truly rule -_ King Rhoam had not been afforded the time to make his trip to Eldin. Messengers had been sent, and Rito too, but all were turned away, their letters burned. It seemed that nothing could be done, except wait.

Until suddenly, the Goron Civil Crisis made its way to the King's own pocket.

Chief among the late Queen's innovations was a fleet of riverboats and ships, all built by carpenters re-trained as shipbuilders. But now, they were refusing coin.

"They want to be paid in full, for a year's work, before they begin," Mael, the Royal Treasurer reported to the King.

"We cannot afford that!" Rhoam protested, flabbergasted by the request. "No one could afford that! Not even the King!"

"Your Majesty, then heed my words, please," the Treasurer begged. "You insist that you are too busy to travel, or that it is too big a risk. But someone must deal with the Gorons."

Voswann, in attendance of the meeting, echoed the Treasurer's sentiments. "This new boss, Lord Ragnor, cannot say no to his King."

"What would you have me do?" Rhoam snapped. "Challenge them to a wrestling match?"

"Placate Lord Ragnor. Find out what angers him, and promise the opposite," Voswann advised.

"And if the Gorons dislike their new boss?"

"We need their gold, and their ore, not their favour," Voswann assured him. "Ragnor has only been their boss for three months or so, they will warm to him in time."

His hand forced and his Royal reserves in jeopardy, Rhoam departed east towards Eldin. It was dreadful. Never mind the rough terrain or scores of hissing Lizalfos that inhabited the volcanic wasteland - the stuffy, royal regalia that Rhoam had been made to wear was unbearable in the heat. When he, Micah, and a handful of other Knights and retainers finally arrived in Goron City, the King was ready to march all the way back home.

The new boss met Rhoam in the town centre. He was surrounded on all sides by tall and wide-stanced Gorons, all as hard-faced as the Boss himself. Rhoam swallowed, his mouth dry from the heat but so too from nerves. Zelda had always been the one to speak at occasions like this.  _Quell the Civil Crisis_ , Chief Advisor Voswann had instructed, as if that were an easy task for anyone.

"T-thank- my thanks, to you, Lord Ragnor, for allowing us into your city," he began.

"Of course!" the Goron Boss grinned. "Though I'm afraid you can't stay long - Hylians have not historically done well in such heat!" He thumped a fist to his chest. "Not like us!"

"Right, yes. We won't take up very much of your time. We...we come only to see the state of your operations," Rhoam struggled to remember the lines his advisors had given him to say.

Ragnor snickered, shaking his head. "Whatever you say,  _Hyrule King_."

Rhoam stood tall and held his chin high, but still, he winced. He recognised the Goron boss' tone immediately, and it was not a favourable one.

* * *

"It's the King!" Akje whispered. "The King of Hyrule!"

"I know - perfect timing," Daruk whispered back. They watched the meeting from a rocky outcrop high above the city, near the soaring Stolock Bridge that looked down into town. A pair of Gorons waited behind them - Akje's brother Daggock, as well as another Goron, a miner named Meto. Orroth had begged to be a member of the party, but Daruk would not put him in danger. At Daruk's signal, the Gorons moved out and headed down the outcrop towards the now abandoned Northern Mine. Meto and Daggock each carried under their arms a wooden barrel painted red with a slick black  _X_  mark in the middle. Explosives. The sight of it made Daruk queasy.

Daruk had only had the mettle to tell Akje of his plan against Ragnor, fearful for what would happen to his son if the Boss were to find out. But Akje had supported him wholeheartedly - and, in an oddly convenient way, Ragnor's hard rule had made him stirringly unpopular. It was not hard to recruit a few allies.

Ragnor insisted every day that mining yields were down, now that part of the Northern Mines were closed. But it was clear to everyone that what  _was_  mined went straight to Ragnor and was hidden someplace. They needed to find out where and tell the Hylians the truth. For months there had been no way; couriers were not allowed into the city, let alone to take word  _from_  it. However, when the King was spotted at the Maw of Death Mountain, on his way to a visit, their real plan found its legs.

Step one: steal some explosives. Orroth's idea. That was not hard. Ragnor's thugs were expecting direct confrontation, not a handful of Gorons sneaking through the city at night. With Orroth as their lookout and scout, Daruk led Akje and their friends to raid the explosives store at the southern mines and hid the barrels they took on the outcrops near Stolock Bridge, where they now waited.

Step two: wait for Ragnor to be distracted by the King. Currently in progress.

Step three: Sneak into the abandoned Northern Mines and blow them wide open. Because where else would Ragnor hide his stolen gold if not the one place no one would go? The rogue Gorons hurried along the rocky hills down towards the scattered isles, keeping as vigilant as possible to avoid being spotted. The only being that saw them was a startled red Lizalfos, which Daruk quickly silenced with a crushing blow from his Stone Smasher. They made it to the mine unhindered, finding it boarded up as Daruk had expected.

With Akje and Daruk to keep watch, Meto and Daggock set the barrels down and began work on the fuse. It wasn't long before they had a line of twine laid out, and a block of flint at the ready.

"It's lit!" Meto cried, sending the Gorons scuttling for cover. There was a resonate  _boom_  that Daruk feared would be heard back in town. There was no time to try a second round of explosives. But when the dust cleared the entire party were relieved to see the entrance blown clear. Even better were the shining silver chests, lying barely visible beyond and undamaged by the blast, full to bursting with ore and gold and coin.

* * *

Even Rhoam's own Knights were sceptical of Ragnor's claims, but Rhoam had little choice. Placate this new tyrant and lose the favour of the Gorons, or challenge him and risk his whole kingdom and its coin.

They had not left the town square as Lord Ragnor poured out his heart; that was if Gorons  _had_  hearts, of which Rhoam realised he was unsure.

"What we do mine is worthless. Amber. Quartz. We cannot send it to Hyrule; we would waste the effort to do so!" he lamented. "And this, so soon after my own brother leaves us!"

It was easy to read the other Gorons' faces- their hate towards Boss before them and the expectation for Rhoam to do  _something_  about him. But there was nothing to be done. Hyrule required this sacrifice.

"I understand," Rhoam watched as the Goron's scowls grew sterner. "We seek only to aid you, Lord Ragnor."

"You coward!" shouted an old Goron from the crowd. "We thought you came to help us!"

"How dare you speak like that to your King!?" Lord Ragnor growled, but the old man ignored him, and soon others were shouting too.  _Lies, lies_ , they screamed. And soon a group of Ragnor's men were storming into the crowd to silence them. Rhoam watched in horrid stupefaction at the unrest that revealed itself to him, until a trio of Gorons marched into the town square, each carrying a silver chest. Their leader, a fiercely determined-looking Goron with a sunburst beard and a huge Stone Smasher slung over his shoulder dumped the contents his chest at Rhoam's feet. Gold and silver, rubies and sapphires poured out; all the gems that Ragnor had claimed not to have.

"What in Hylia's name is this?" Rhoam muttered. He locked eyes with Ragnor, but the Goron Boss had nothing to say. His thick-lipped mouth bobbed open and closed.

"I said,  _what is this!?_ " Rhoam demanded, kicking a pile of gems towards Lord Ragnor.

"The truth!" the leader Goron shouted. He gave a wobbly bow. "Name's Daruk. Honoured to meet you, Your Kingliness. I'll take it from here."

There was no time to correct the Goron's mistake. Rhoam gave him a nod, and backed away, retreating to the sidelines to watch.

"I was just protecting our people, the way Boten never could!" Ragnor said, backing away from Daruk. "Creating wealth, securing our future! We work and work, and what do we get for it?"

"Peace!" Daruk roared. "You ended that when you blew up the mine!"

"You can't prove that!"

Daruk pointed to the glittering gems between them. "I proved your other lies. Took me a couple months but I did it." He took his Stone Smasher from his shoulder and dropped it to the ground. He balled his fists, hold them at the ready.

"What are you doing?" Ragnor growled, eyes jumping something frantic between the gems, the weapons and the Goron before him.

Daruk gestured with his fists, waggling his fingers for effect. "No fancy swords, no nothing. Just fists. That's what you wanted, right?  _Face to face_."

Rhoam understood immediately. A duel. Perhaps Daruk was strong, but Ragnor was larger by a third. He wondered how this new Goron would fare and hoped he would win.  _It would save everyone a lot of trouble if he did._  Having never seen a Goron wrestling match, the King was privately excited.

"Don't fight him, boss!" came a shout from one of the Gorons in the gathering and growing crowd. "He's got that...power"

 _Power?_ That piqued Rhoam's interest.

Ragnor balled his fists, ready for a fight. "I don't care. No one stands in my way like this!"

Both Gorons were ready. The crowd was silent, and the whole town stood still, except a tremor from the mountain that shook the ground almost imperceptibly. The gorons circled, watching. Waiting.

"A standoff," Micah whispered. "Whoever moves first loses."

Rhoam watched with great intent. At once, Ragnor burst forward, swinging with unearthly force. Daruk countered, knocking the bigger Goron backwards but not entirely off balance. Ragnor recovered, delivering a second blow that landed this time, hitting Daruk hard in the stomach. The smaller Goron had prepared for it, it seemed and only stumbled, grunting under the force of the punch. The duo returned to their circling, only briefly clashing before once again springing apart. Wilder and harder the punches landed, Ragnor's thrusts becoming fiercer and more desperate, as Daruk's swift dodges turned into leaps and rolls.

Daruk stumbled suddenly, startled as he stepped into the pile of forgotten gems. Ragnor used the opportunity to clock him hard across the face, with a foot jutting out to swipe Daruk legs out from under him. The smaller Goron went down, and the Boss rocked with laughter.

"Where's your power now!?" he taunted. "You couldn't save Boten! How can you save yourself?"

Ragnor brought his fists together, slamming them down towards Daruk's chest, but the Goron lurched out of the way, balling up and rolling to the other side of the arena. Uncoiling, he stumbled to his feet and wiped a smudge of blood from his lips. The Boss advanced, but this time Daruk was ready. He dodged the incoming strike and rebuked with a sharp jab to the ribs and an uppercut so powerful it sent Ragnor tumbling backwards across the square. He landed in reach of Daruk's abandoned Stone Smasher, reaching for it desperately as his opponent advanced. Just as Daruk reached him, fists raised to strike, Ragnor swung, and Rhoam saw then this mysterious  _power_. Daruk clapped his fists together just in time, a glowing sphere appearing around him to block the wild swing of the Stone Smasher from Ragnor. The sphere exploded, ethereal shards battering and blinding Ragnor, and Rhoam knew the fight was done.

"Stop!" the King roared, moving towards the fighters. "Enough! In the name of your King, stop!" Rhoam looked down at Ragnor and revelled in his vindication. "You broke the terms of the duel, and while I'm not well versed in your own laws, by mine, that means you are disqualified,  _Goron Boss_."

Ragnor could do little but groan and scowl. He tried to stand, but faltered, and smacked back down onto the ground with a feeble  _thwack_. Meanwhile, the crowd was cheering and whooping for their victor;  _Daruk, Daruk, Daruk!_

Humbled, Daruk only gave the crowd the slightest of nods, before turning his attention back to Ragnor. He knelt down. "You should get out of this city, Boss."

"I should have him put to death," Rhoam said. "But I agree. Call it mercy for the common decency you showed me by exposing yourself and losing."

Ragnor struggled to stand, but when he did, the crowd booed ferociously, and without another word, he stumbled away from the city square. Rhoam did not watch him go.

"My business here isn't done," he said to Daruk. "I still need to speak to the Boss."

The chanting had not quieted. Daruk smiled wide and extended a huge hand. "May as well be me!" and the crowd cheered louder.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of much help," Rhoam frowned. "I'd have no hope fighting him the way you did."

"Ah, don't worry your rocks about us, Hyrule King. You have your work cut out for you, you do! We're fine exactly as we were," He pointed thumb towards the overflowing silver chests. "We'll get this stuff back out there in no time. Your people can rest easy."

Rhoam nodded. "You have my gratitude,  _Lord_  Daruk. Quite the power you have there. I thought mages were a thing of the past."

" _Mage_?" Daruk laughed, a nervous hand running through his beard. "Cut me some slack. I can't become a Boss  _and_  a mage in one day. But sure, if that's what I am."

Escaping from the crowd, a youngling Goron ran up to Daruk, his face full with glee. "Dad!" he cheered, leaping into Daruk's arms. "That was amazing!"

"Couldn't have done it without your help, little guy!" Daruk smiled, hugging his son tight. Trying though he was to share in Daruk and his son's joy, Rhoam felt only bitterness. He could not stand to stay any longer. Not in the heat or the shadow of the mountain or under the weight of his own impotence. He excused himself, privately distraught, and instructed his party to make their way back to Hyrule.

When Rhoam turned away from Goron City, and it's celebrations, an even more distressing sight greeted him; waiting in the shadows, his face hooded so that it was barely visible, was the thin and knowing face of the fortune teller, the Sheikah Malachi. He smiled, giving Rhoam a short bow, and disappeared from view.

* * *

_One hundred and fourteen years later_

* * *

The steep cliff faces and volcanic rocks peered overhead as they passed through the maw of Death Mountain, and soon all signs of normal civilisation departed. Queen Zelda and the Champion Yunobo walked together, their horses now left at Eldin Stables.

"It's been so long since I came here," Zelda told him. "I know so little about Eldin."

"For start, watch out for arrows, goro" Yunobo informed her, as though warning against a mild inconvenience. "The red Lizalfos here are everywhe-"  _thwack!_  A long, flaming arrow came tearing through the air, landing in the rocks behind them. Yunobo and Zelda turned at once, and spurred on by instinct, Zelda raised her right hand towards their attacker. Nothing happened.

"Your Majesty…what are you doing?" Yunobo said slowly, momentarily distracted by her displace. A second arrow soared towards them, drawing Yunobo back to the threat before them. Just in time, he clapped his hands together. The bolt snapped against a spherical, glowing shield -  _Daruk's Protection_  it was, inherited from his grandfather. Before the next arrow could fly, Yunobo ushered the Queen further along the mountain pass, out of sight of the rogue Lizalfos.

"I'm sorry, I was just…" Zelda mumbled, looking down at her empty hand. "Once, I had powers like yours. But not anymore."

"I remember!" Yunobo grinned, before becoming abruptly confused. "Wait, what happened?"

"I gave them up," Zelda frowned.  _It was the right thing to do,_ she told herself.

Yunobo did not speak, but his expression said all it needed to:  _But why?_

The many fireproof elixirs Zelda had downed, and the fireproofed clothing she had worn did not prepare her for the true force of the Eldin heat, once the pair arrived in Goron City. It was distracting, mind-numbing even, but Zelda pushed all of her earthly complaints to the back of her mind. She had come here for one reason- to gain a Goron for her Hyrulean Council. It needed to be formed so that all of Hyrule could decide on matters important to them. Zelda would not call a Council until everyone was represented. Even though her decision had delayed the Council for months, it seemed only fair.

Sadly, the Goron Boss, Lord Bludo, still would not relent.

"I was born here; I will live here  _and_  die here on this mountain!" he told Zelda when she explained her position. "I will not leave."

"Then I will go," Yunobo announced.

"You!?" Bludo scowled. "No! You only just got back here, young duster. I can't send you back out to Hyrule again. You forget you have a job here! That ore isn't going to mine itself, goro.f"

"Lord Bludo, I know the history between our races is…" Zelda tried and failed to think of a word besides 'rocky'. She gritted her teeth and smiled. " _Rocky_...at best. But-"

"Your Majesty," Bludo returned tersely. "I am sorry. But the last time we had a Hylian ruler lord over us, he supported a tyrant, almost doomed our people to slavery, and got our Boss killed by some calamity! We are safest here, on our own. Undisturbed!"

"Hyrule needs your trade," Zelda argued. "It needs your input."

"And it has that. I will not shut our doors, like that fool Ragnor."

 _But you did_ ,  _not a year ago, during the civil war,_ Zelda thought angrily, though she knew better than to speak. She could feel herself closing in, giving up. That's what her father had done - he had said that there was no shame in retreat, in sacrifice. When the Goron Civil Crisis had come to its head, he was willing to step aside when needed.  _Is this what I must do_?

"We'll help how we can, but from  _here_ ," Bludo added, and the idea was planted in Zelda's mind. She would not retreat, she decided. Doing nothing was never enough.

"From here, you say?" Zelda asked the Goron Boss.

"I won't go anywhere else."

"Good, perfect. We will hold a summit here then -  _if_  we have your approval," Zelda turned to Yunobo. "What do you think?"

"Hey, yeah!" Yunobo was thrilled. "A summit here, Boss! Imagine all the people we can meet."

Bludo looked back and forth between Zelda and Yunobo, unsure if he had heard correctly.

"Let us show you the benefits working together can provide," Zelda offered. "If the Council is still not to your liking, we will leave the matter there."

The Goron boss ran an unsteady hand through his beard and let out a heaving wheeze. Beside her, Yunobo was practically hopping with anticipation.

"Eh - alright," Bludo finally said, drawing a cheer from Yunobo. "But not  _here_ here. We'll get too many complaints about the heat. Down at the Maw is better."

Ecstatic at her quick success, and eager to leave the heat of the Mountain, Zelda bid the Gorons farewell and travelled alone to Eldin Stables. Riding in with her hood drawn to hide her identity, Zelda intended to keep a low profile - until astonishingly, she found Link within the stables, on his journey east.

"What are you doing all the way up here?!" Zelda said in disbelief, unable to stop herself from throwing her arms around him.

"They told me you'd gone to Eldin and, well I thought you'd be there longer," Link laughed. "I wanted to meet you there, but this is much better." He led her outside, to where he'd left his horse and travelling pack. "I have something to show you," he said.

"Good news?" Zelda asked hesitantly.

Link grinned. "Better," he said, and pressed into her hand a small, yellowed journal. Zelda pried open the stiff leather cover and read the writing on the inner leaf with delight;  _The Journal of Lady Urbosa of Gerudo Town._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended notes for Chapters 1 and 2 can be found [here](https://rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com/post/168438500736/the-ballads-beginning-extended-notes-ch-12).


	3. Urbosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: this work now contains minor Champions' Ballad spoilers. This was always going to happen, as the work was inspired by the DLC concept. Everything is integrated so you do NOT need to have played the DLC, and what I've referenced are just minor tidbits from characters' diaries.
> 
> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com).

_ I wonder if Zelda felt the fear that I do. What would she counsel? Perfection in anxiety, or failure in ignorance? _

King Rhoam’s Diary, Entry #110

* * *

Even before the Great Calamity, the Maw of Death Mountain was a sparsely populated barren, and hardly a major attraction for travellers. The entire Maw was comprised of jagged, low-lying rocks, untraversable in anything but the best-made boots, and was flanked by two bubbling and sulphurous lakes that even the Gorons thought twice about approaching.

It was one of the last places in the world that Zelda would think to hold a grand Summit, but it was the hand fate had dealt. At Lord Bludo's approval, she called upon the various leaders and elders to come to the Maw, citing the Goron Boss' ailing health as the reason for holding the summit in Eldin. And to her surprise, each invitation she sent was returned with a voracious 'yes'. The Hyruleans would never pass up an opportunity to complain, it seemed.

"I can't believe you managed to get them all to come here.  _Here_ , to Eldin," Link said, watching with Zelda as the parties arrived.

"I would hold a Summit within Death Mountain itself if it meant gathering everyone in one place," Zelda told him. "The Kingdom requires that we all work together. If another Calamity struck tomorrow, we would be ruined."

A meagre party of Shiekah passed by atop their horses, and Zelda immediately recognised their leader - a youthful woman with snow-white hair and the eye of the Sheikah tattooed on her forehead - though it was Link who spoke first.

"Paya!" he called, waving over the incoming travellers. "Aurelia!"

 _Aurelia!?_ Surely  _she_ would not be here, all the way from Deep Akkala. But when the Sheikah turned, Zelda saw a woman with straw-coloured hair riding beside Paya, wearing a sleek eye-patch and a weary smile; Aurelia, Master of the Yiga. She had been thrust into the position of their leader when her people were massacred from within, and had decided to reform the Yiga as allies of the Royal Family, ending ten thousand years of war. Even so, the Yiga were still hated furiously. Travelling with the Sheikah was the only way they could avoid being attacked; and so the eyes of the Yiga and the Sheikah rode together.

"Your Majesty," Paya said, dismounting and dropping to her knees. "My apologies that my grandmother could not attend. I know I cannot replace her wisdom and-"

"Never mind that!" Zelda beamed, forgetting all formality to throw her arms around the Sheikah girl. "We haven't seen you two in months!"

Friends were rare in the royal office, and so Zelda revelled in the opportunity to converse happily with the women. Despite this, Zelda felt in their words as hesitation, as if Paya and Aurelia were afraid to offend  _the Queen_. She wanted desperately to speak candidly for once, but could not. The Sheikah and Yiga went on their way to settle in, and soon the Summit was underway.

Many reunions were had after they met with the Sheikah. Sidon and Link spoke as brothers, and Zelda passed the Zora King a discreet letter from her Chief Advisor, Larella. Elder Kaneli of the Rito gave Zelda his thanks for elevating Teba to such a high office of Battlemaster, Yunobo cheerfully reported that Bludo was satisfied with the Summit so far, but that he wasn't looking forward to the 'talking bits', and Chief Riju gave a terse, but respectful greeting.

"Our loaned artefact is in safe hands, I hope?" she asked, referring to the diary of Lady Urbosa that the Gerudo had kindly lent to the Hylians.

"I have it in my very possession," Zelda assured her, quietly hoping such an old artefact would withstand the heat of Eldin.

Riju nodded. "Well, I'm glad we can be of assistance."

A silence fell between the rulers, the moment to amicably end the awkward exchange coming and going, soaring past like a flitting sparrow.  _We ought to be sisters_ , Zelda thought morosely.  _Our circumstances are so similar, and yet…_

"Your Majesty," Riju said, excusing herself and disappearing into her entourage of imposing Gerudo guards.  _Our past precludes us_ , Zelda concluded. Perhaps this too could be changed by the Summit.

The Summiteers all gathered in a large tent set up specifically for negotiations. After a welcome speech thanking all for travelling so far, Zelda opened the floor to a discussion. Ideas and issues flowed in from all in attendance; the Rito sought guidance to secure their Divine Beast to the Spire of Lake Totori, lest some particularly strong winds knock it down, the Zora required labourers from Hateno to finish the Lanayru-Necluda tunnel, and the Gorons had nothing to report besides Lord Bludo's request that  _someone_ hire Goron City's band of musicians, as he was tired of hearing their  _banging on_ from dawn to dusk. And then, last to rise, Chief Riju calmly addressed the Summiteers;

"There has been a resurgence of magic users in Gerudo. Many are untrained and have formed camps in the desert, perhaps to learn from each other. But they are scaring travellers, getting into fights, and even clashing with our guards."

The summiteers grumbled; mages made them think of sorcerers, of the Yiga, of bad omens. Once, in Zelda's father's time, magic wielders were uncommon, but not unheard of. The Calamity changed that; changed  _everything_. They like many things were obliterated. Zelda had been wondering when magic would rear itself once more.

"We seek your help to deal with these mages, Your Majesty," Riju said, and all eyes turned to the Queen.

Zelda froze. "Whatever for?"

"Because  _you_ are one of them, aren't you?" Behind her cool exterior, anger flashed in Riju's eyes. "We saw what you can do, the way you shut down our Beasts."

Zelda shook her head.  _It was the right thing to do,_ she told herself, words she had repeated night after night for over a year now.  _They were fighting, all of them. They would have killed each other with their Beasts. I had no choice!_

She ran a shaking thumb over her bare right hand. "Not anymore. I put my powers to rest."

" _What!?_ " Riju blurted. "How?"

"I am not a mage, just a carrier," Zelda explained. "My power is something ancient, and divine. It is safe, hidden in a sacred realm. Ready to be reclaimed when needed."

This was the first time she had announced this truth to so many people. Some stared at her in shock, while others shrugged, indifferent; Riju simply stared down her nose at the revelation, unwilling to be waylaid, "Regardless, you must help us," she insisted. "Even if you aren't one, mages resurfaced in your father's age, did they not? Aren't you researching that era for yourself?"

The Chief was right, devious though it was to bring up the King. Zelda shook her head again.

"My apologies but…"  _I don't know how to help._ She could not admit it, not in front of everyone. Taking a deep breath, Zelda looked Riju in the eye; "I cannot promise my own expertise, but the Hylians will aid you. We will work out a plan, together."

This seemed to satisfy the Gerudo Chief, and she promptly sat back down. When at last the proceedings for the day were ended, Zelda retired to her tent, exhausted and humiliated. Rogue mages in Gerudo desert? Just the sort of thing she knew nothing about.

Amongst her things, Zelda spied the diary that Link had brought her - Lady Urbosa's.  _You were the first mage I ever knew_ ,  _you would know what to do_.

Hoping to find an answer within, Zelda opened the diary to the first page.

* * *

_One Hundred and Twelve Years Earlier_

* * *

The heat of Summer changed Kakariko Village from a mysterious haunt to a shimmering oasis. For the first time since his marriage to the Queen, Rhoam didn't half mind the sullen little hamlet. Even so, it still hurt to go there, knowing his wife and infant son lay so nearby, stolen from him. He did not want to remain long; he would pay his respects to Elder Soklee, retrieve his daughter, and return swiftly to Hyrule Castle.

The Princess was nearing eight now and had grown into a neat, well-mannered child. She was the shade of her mother, almost a reflection pure. A year had not been enough.

Little Zelda approached with a trio of young Sheikah children, lead by Elder Soklee herself. By now Soklee was middle-aged, approaching her twilight years, but she walked with the confidence and strength of a young woman. Rhoam recognised two of the three Sheikah youths that she led, though could recall not their names. He judged them to be nearly teenagers: two girls, and one boy.

"Father," the Princess said, curtseying.

"Your Majesty," Elder Soklee and the three Sheikah youths echoed, bowing in unison. Rhoam bid them rise.

Elder Soklee pushed the trio of Sheikah forward. "I would like to introduce you to three apprentices that I will be sending to Hyrule. My daughters, Impa and Purah, and their cousin, Robert."

Rhoam appraised the youths before him. The eldest girl, Purah, was barely taller than his waist and wore on her face a pair of huge, round spectacles. She too gazed up at Rhoam with a distrusting eye. The younger, Impa, looked a warrior already, her hair coiled into a high bun and a short, single-edged dagger fastened at her hip. A hard scowl seemed carved into her face, one she did not hide from even him. Finally, the boy, Robert, taller than the others, regarded him with a casual smile.

They all looked far too smart for their age, Rhoam concluded. "And what will they be studying, in Hyrule?" he asked.

"Purah and Robbie will go to the workshop to study under its Director, and Impa…" the Elder hesitated, so the young girl spoke.

"I am to be Princess Zelda's attendant."

Rhoam was taken aback. "The Princess needs not an attendant," he said, hearing the word to only mean  _spy_. "She was sent here to begin her training. Has there been any progress?

Between the youths, Princess Zelda had turned a bright shade of red. Elder Soklee gestured towards her house, ignoring Rhoam's question; "Come, let us leave the children so that we can talk."

She nodded to Purah, an understanding passing wordlessly between them. The eldest girl drew the others away, while Rhoam and Soklee went into the Elder's central house. Shutting the wooden doors behind her, Elder Soklee stood before the central dais and pointed to a tapestry hanging there.

"Do you know what this is?"

Rhoam answered immediately. "A fairy tale, yes."

"No," Soklee said. "It is a legend. Of Calamity Ganon, and a Princess, and a brave Knight. Your daughter belongs to this very legend. It is her destiny to harbour the power that her ancestor held."

"The Queen told me this much herself," Rhoam said blithely. He disliked this line of conversation.

"We just have a small problem," Soklee frowned, scanning the tapestry as if looking for imperfections. "The secrets of such power are sacred. The Queen did not share them even with me. So when I began Zelda's training, I could only start but our own teachings. Meditation, prayer, knowledge of the legends of our realm. But...you must understand. We have  _no idea_ how to access her powers."

"So your answers are just so. There has been no progress?"

Elder Soklee nodded, her brows knitted.

"Is this why you are sending an 'attendant'?" Rhoam pressed.

"No, as I suspect you have guessed," Soklee admitted freely. "I need eyes in Hyrule, and I hope Impa will fare better than our  _last_ Ambassador."

 _Malachi_ , Rhoam remembered, as well as his encounter with that strange fortune teller a year prior. "You  _need_ eyes on me?" he asked.

Once more, the Sheikah Elder was characteristically evasive. "Tell me, how are the Royal coffers after the Goron Civil Crisis?"

 _Not good_ , Rhoam was hesitant to admit. Lord Daruk had taken leadership of Goron City, but the effects of the initial crisis had been sorely underestimated. If it could happen so quickly the first time, what could stop it from happening again?

"If you are making a pass at my diplomacy then-"

"I am. For six years I have held my tongue, but when we receive word of Civil Crisis, of Yiga attacks and other such nonsense, I must have an Ambassador."

"You cannot just-"

"I can. I will," Soklee asserted. "The Sheikah are bound into service of the Crown, and you would sooner forfeit your chair than lose your oldest ally."

Despite the woman's small size and common status, Rhoam knew that she would not - _could not_ \- be argued with. He consented and departed with the Sheikah youths and his daughter not an hour later.

During the carriage ride back to Hyrule, little Zelda waited a long while to finally speak. "Did Elder Soklee say what is wrong with me?" she asked quietly, whispering in her father's ear.

"Wrong with you?" Rhoam almost laughed. He drew her in close, speaking with fatherly warmth. "You just need to persevere. This silly power of yours, it will come in time."

"But what if it doesn't?" Zelda asked and Rhoam realised he did not have an answer.

"Do not think on that, little one," he said.

The unrelenting heat warmed Hyrule so much so that by night time, the air became muggy and stagnant. It left the whole travelling party stinking of sweat, stained leather and wet hair (which, as one of the Knight's had said when he thought himself out of the King's earshot, was  _worse than a horse's arse_ ). So oppressive was this Summer spell that even the short trip from Kakariko Village had to split into two, with the party taking rest at the Woodside Stables. Alone in his own private tent, unable to sleep, the King sat at a small desk with his journal, quietly and tearfully examining the note Zelda had left for him.  _Fill these pages well, as well as fate deigns to allow_.

"Fate," he muttered grouchily. "Fate didn't make me this way, Zelda."

"It is a champion we cannot defeat, indeed," came a familiar, haunting voice. Rhoam snapped his journal shut so forcefully that he nearly snuffed out his reading candle.

"You!?" he cried, reaching for a dagger that wasn't there. "How did you get here-"

"Sheikah, remember?" Malachi said, stepping into view. He did not look a day older than when Rhoam had last seen him almost two years prior. He wore the same plain, tattered clothes, as well as the same all-knowing grin. "She left you a note, didn't she?  _Fill these pages well_ -"

"How could you know that!?" Rhoam barked, as furious as he was terrified.

"I wasn't just an ambassador. Or a  _fortune teller_ , as you glibly put it. I was a Seer," Malachi said. He gestured once more to the journal. "Fate is your enemy. Who else trumps fate but the Seer?"

The control and confidence in his voice had a strange easing quality to it. Rhoam found himself  _wanting_ to trust the man. "And what is it that you see?" he asked cautiously.

With a single, fluid sweep of his arm, Malachi reached into his coat and produced a deck of cards. Rhoam burst into a fit of laughter; this was a dream, surely! A product of the heat. There was no other explanation.

"If we're playing cards, I'm afraid I have nothing to bet," Rhoam quipped. "Austerity measures. We're recovering from an economic crisis, as I'm  _sure_ you're aware."

"These are no ordinary cards."

"Oh? Haunted? Powered by ancient energy?"

The Sheikah frowned, clearly not expecting anything in the way of insolence or sass. He shuffled the cards, and drew them one by one, laying them face down on the desk.

The backs were black, with the glowing blue Sheikah eye seemingly etched on as a rune. The cerulean detailing flickered in the low light.

"Every time I draw the cards, the order is the same," Malachi explained, reaching for Rhoam's pen and inkwell. "I will write the order in your journal, and you will see."

The fortune teller scribbled some words down onto the page in what seemed to be a list. Rhoam read the first line;  _The Fighter._ He shrugged. What harm was there in some amusing sleight of hand. "Go on," he urged.

Malachi flipped the first card. It was a wide-set warrior, wielding a twin-headed axe and standing across a crack in the ground. "Number six, the Fighter," he said. He flipped the next card; a mage, wielding fire between their fingers. "Number eight, the Mage - untamable, but strangely wise."

Rhoam looked at the list and nodded.  _Fighter, mage_ ; two so far. Malachi flipped the next card. "Number twelve, the Archer. Free, but always in service."

Malachi flipped the next card. "Number fifteen. The Healer. Compassionate. But without thanks," and then the next, "Ah, this is where things get interesting."

Rhoam looked down at the card, and was struck by its likeness; it was a King, wearing a golden crown. "Number one, the Emperor," Malachi said, pointing a slender finger forwards. "That's you!  _But..._ what is next intrigues me most."

He flipped the next two cards: "Knight and Queen, as a pair. Always as a pair. They're even the same suit!"

There were two more cards. Rhoam cast a glance at the list and saw that the order had thus far been perfect. He did not look at the final two words, not wanting to spoil the fun.

"And those two?" he asked. Malachi flipped the penultimate card, and without looking at it, held it up for Rhoam. It depicted a great tower of white and blue and gold, pink fire bursting from every window.

"Number seventeen, the Tower _,_ " Malachi said, still smiling as giddily as ever. "And it only ever means one thing."

Rhoam raised his brows, bracing himself.

Malachi spoke in an enthralled whisper, his face hauntingly ecstatic; " _Calamity_."

At the word, Rhoam felt sickening plunging feeling in his stomach, though he could not fathom why. "And the last card?"

Malachi turned the card, but what Rhoam saw he did not understand. "The Sun?" he asked.

The fortune teller nodded. "Number eighteen. After darkness comes light. Always."

Rhoam looked back to the list. As expected, the words were indeed in the exact order that the fortune teller had read them out. He quickly shoved the cards off the journal and onto the desk, standing so that he might tower over the Sheikah man. "This was an  _interesting_ diversion, but you must go now. I do not have the time for such things."

"As you wish, your Majesty," Malachi said, bowing his head low. "However, if you wish to call on me, I will be waiting."

As the Shiekah began to pick up the cards, one caught Rhoam's eye.  _The Fighter_ ; while the figure depicted was humanoid, there was something  _otherworldly_ about it. He snatched it up, holding the card close to study its details; and then he saw it. Surrounding the figure was a luminescent, angular sphere.  _It's Daruk_ , he realised.

Long after the fortune teller had departed, Rhoam remained unable to sleep. _It was nothing more than a trick,_ he had been telling himself, but still, he wondered. Leaping from his bed, Rhoam threw open his journal and tore through the pages until he found the one the Shiekah had written in.  _The Fighter_ read the first line; Rhoam looked to the next card on the list.

 _Number 8_ , it read.  _The Mage_.

* * *

The early morning sky in Gerudo hung heavy above, tinged a velvety blue. Below the sands were cool, shifting slightly with each rush of rising wind. This was the most gentle and welcoming that the desert would be all day.

It was the perfect time; when everything was ripe with opportunity. There were no limits, no walls, only the anarchy of choice. Fate bowed down in the desert. The only fate was one self-made.

At the apotheosis of a valley, the soft sands gave way to salt flats, on top of which a pair of water towers rested. Two gargantuan tanks were supported by a crisscross of wooden scaffolds. From a distance, the towers seemed abandoned and unused, but on closer inspection, a trio of vultures had settled in.

Lady Urbosa of Gerudo Town had spotted them during a ride out into the desert a few days prior - a band of three Yiga, all bladed, likely magelings too. She had heard reports that they were causing trouble, harassing guards, preventing travellers passing by. But Urbosa's mother, Chief Riani in all her infinite wisdom, had called them a 'low priority'.

Urbosa crouched low as she climbed the dune leading up to the water towers. She unhooked artefact that she had fastened to her belt; a golden helm, with six eyes of emerald and horns of twisted metal. The Thunder Helm, her family heirloom. Despite all the drawbacks of being the  _future Chief_ , there were some advantages. Easy access to all the best gear, for example. The helm was heavy as lead, but it was necessary. Yiga were often minor mages, their powers induced by the brutal training they underwent, and so Urbosa needed to protect herself.

At the base of the tower, the Yiga had set up a trio of lean-tos, plain and unpatterned. The remnants of a fire were burning low between them, and the camp was strewn with an excessive amount of banana peels. One of the Yiga was already awake -  _damn_ \- and was ambling about the camp. Another Yiga emerged from one of the lean-tos. There were shouts, jovial and relaxed. Focusing, Urbosa caught sight of a sickle, abandoned by the fire and glinting in the rising light. She had seen enough; no more hesitation.

Lowering the helm over her head and trying to focus her vision through the tiny eyeholes, Urbosa unshouldered her emblazoned round shield and sharply pointed Gerudo scimitar, and skulked towards the camp. She made no sound, felt no thoughts, saw nothing but her targets. A snake in the sand, ready to strike.

Just as she reached the cusp of the dune, the figures turned; she was spotted. They leapt into action, shouting,  _a vai, a Gerudo vai!_ A third Yiga burst from a tent, bow and arrow in hand. Prepared, but fighting to see through the heavy helm, Urbosa reached down to her belt to snatch up a dagger and launched it towards the archer. She missed, the blade soaring down into the valley beyond.

No time to dwell. Anticipating the arrow that would be returned, Urbosa dived, rolling along the flats and landing easily on her feet, ready to face the nearest Yiga. She dodged the expert strike from his curved sickle, once, twice, leaping backwards to avoid the second arrow. It struck, glancing off her shoulder. She saw the blood before she felt the wound. Pivoting hard towards the archer, Urbosa hurled her scimitar towards him, and this time she did not miss. She did not see the archer fall, only heard his anguished gasp and the shouts from the others;  _Kill that vai!_

The remaining two closed in, but Urbosa rolled, leaping towards the unclaimed sickle she had seen earlier. Snatching it up just in time, Urbosa turned and braced herself. The remaining Yiga closed in. Urbosa smiled and moved to strike.

Spinning and slicing, blocking and countering, Urbosa danced back and forth between the two Yiga, waiting for an opportunity. But no sooner than she had reeled back from one attack was she fielding a slice from another, and so it went; twirling, spinning, steel against steel, until at last one of the Yiga stumbled. Her sickle found his neck with ease, fountaining blood and choked coughs his swan song. Urbosa was not one to dwell on the dying and the dead; she turned to the remaining Yiga only to find that he was gone. In a puff of smoke he had been launched up onto the water tower, the fallen archer's bow in his hand.

Without a moment's hesitation, Urbosa ran towards him. Her shield raised as cover, she leapt onto the scaffolding, hoping to wrench the fleeing Yiga from the tower. High and higher she climbed, fielding arrows from above, and further and further away the Yiga fled. Exhausted and desperate, Urbosa readied herself, and her power.

The thunder; it was not strong yet. It was untamed. Sometimes when Urbosa used it, she hurt even herself. But if this Yiga got away, then her whole mission would be a failure.

In another red puff, the Yiga disappeared and reappeared on the second, farther tower, far out of reach. He loosed an arrow that narrowly missed Urbosa's leg. There was no choice.

Raising her right hand and summoning all of her strength and  _hate_ for this man, Urbosa snapped her fingers. A burst of electricity arced across the adjacent second water tower, striking the Yiga through the chest. He spasmed wildly, losing his grip on the tower, and plummeting down to the flats below. Urbosa's Thunder Helm did its job, however, and so she was unharmed. She finally allowed herself to relax and began the descent down the tower. All seemed at peace once more, until a slow, ominous creaking from above caught her attention. To her horror, she saw that that where her lightning had struck, the wooden scaffolding had been burned away, and was crumbling under the immense weight of the water tank above. The last support snapped, and with an enormous groan, the second tower began to collapse forward - right into the first. Right into Urbosa.

Fighting through her pain, she threw herself from the scaffolding just as the towers collided. There was a deafening crunch behind her, followed by the splintering of wood and gushing of water. Urbosa roared as she flew through the air, landing hard on the sand tumbling down the steep dune. The Thunder helm flew from her head, but she caught it before it was lost, and soon she came to rest at the bottom of the valley. After wiping the sand from her eyes and checking to see that she was still whole, Urbosa finally dared a look at the carnage.

It was worse than she'd imagined. The towers were ruined and split open like a pair of hydromelons. Torrents of precious water poured out onto the sand, lost forever. Urbosa watched dejectedly as the water spilt over the edge of the valley and made little rivers that snaked their way down the dune to where she sat.

* * *

"You directly disobeyed my orders!" roared the Urbosa's mother. Chief Riani had dragged Urbosa before the Gerudo Court and now glared down at her from her sandstone throne.

"But I-" Urbosa began.

"But what? You killed a handful of Yiga? You also  _destroyed_ two water towers!"

There was no argument to be made, and the her mother certainly was not exaggerating. Riani's entourage of guards and advisors could not even hide their disapproving scowls, nevermind that Urbosa was their future Chief. Perhaps, that made it all the worse. To make matters worse, Urbosa's aunt and the Captain of Chief Riani's forces, Calliope, was in attendance. She had trained Urbosa almost entirely herself; it was Calliope's teachings that Urbosa had used to defeat the Yiga, and so her failure was her aunt's failure.

"My sister speaks true," Calliope said gravely, stepping forward before the throne. "We  _forbade_ you from using your powers, especially in this way, until I deemed that you were ready."

"Would you rather I had died!?" Urbosa spat.

"I would rather you had never gone at all!" Chief Riani countered.

Urbosa approached her aunt, beseeching her with her sincerest voice. "Calliope, listen to me. Those Yiga were closer than they have been to this town in a year! They are planning something-"

"It does not matter," Calliope said. "You broke our trust. That renders all you say moot."

Chief Riani clapped her hands, leaning impatiently forward on her throne. "Enough. Urbosa, Calliope and I have devised a suitable punishment."

Oh joy; her mother  _and_ Calliope had been working together. Urbosa steeled herself for some torturous doling out of labour or deary patrols. Chief Riani gestured to an attendant, who produce a notice for her to read aloud.

"We have had a message from the King of Hyrule. He calls for any mages across Hyrule to come to the Castle, to tutor and mentor his daughter."

At once, a flood of images filled Urbosa's mind; memories and days past that she had worked hard to forget.  _I call her my little bird. She's so small, like a sparrow._

She could not answer. They could not be doing this. They  _knew_.

"We are sending you, Urbosa, to get you away from Gerudo until your temper softens and you learn to  _think_ before you act," Calliope explained.

"I have no need to meet the  _voe_ that rules in Hyrule," Riani said, shifting in her throne. "But I know you were a good friend to his late wife and our Queen."

The women waited silently for Urbosa to answer. She had been eyeing the ground, tapping her foot and shaking her head, refusing to accept their words. Finally, she said, "Zelda is dead. What is there left for me in Hyrule?"

Chief Riani appraised Urbosa sadly, recognising her pain. "Her daughter," she answered.

_Little bird, little bird. Soon she will spread her wings._

"Do I have any say in this, Mother?" Urbosa asked.

The Chief hard expression changed, sympathy blossoming there for the first time during their meeting. "No, but in this way, I think you and the Princess will be peers."

* * *

Central Hyrule was a sight of splendour beyond what Urbosa had remembered in the eight years since travelling there. Wide-eyed she rode along those grass-lined roads, beneath the thick trees and across the running rivers. Naturally, she had not been sent alone to Hyrule. Calliope rode with her, along with another Gerudo mageling, Ana, who shared with Urbosa that she had never left Gerudo before, let alone seen the city they were travelling to.

And what a city Castle Town was; its sheer size and density astonished Urbosa still, as did the ridiculous amount of people crammed into its narrow streets. The Gerudo rode through the town in single file, on horses adorned with saddles of ochre reds and oranges, the reins decorated with golden embroidery to match the Gerudo's equally extravagant garb. No matter the occasion, Urbosa reflected proudly, her people could always make an appearance.

To her surprise, they were greeted not by the King, but by a Royal Guard, politely but nervously leading them to the Royal Apartments. In the days that followed, Urbosa neither saw nor heard from the King or his daughter. Only once did Urbosa enquire after the elusive Rhoam;  _He will meet you once all have answered the call_ , was the response. Urbosa had poked that poor, frightened retainer in the chest, reminding him of both who she was and what she was capable of, and that she could not wait around for some layabout King. All the outburst won her was a sharp talking to from Calliope, however.

After an entire week, the Gerudo were called into the throne room to attend the Hyrulean Court. Standing at the back of the room with the other Gerudo, Urbosa surveyed the gathering crowd; soldiers and Knights, courtiers and retainers, all Hylian They twittered and whispered, waiting for the proceedings to begin.

Urbosa was not equally enthused. The waiting had worn down her enthusiasm, though she still worried about the Princess. She had not seen the girl since she was a toddler. At last, the King and Princess Zelda arrived, walking silently to the balcony on which the Hylian throne resided. Unsurprisingly, Little Zelda was the Queens' facsimile in both appearance and in poise. Urbosa dropped to her knees; all bowed.

Flanking the throne were a number of advisors, only a few of whom Urbosa recognised; Chief Advisor Voswann seemed not to have aged, still wrinkled and sour like a rotting onion. The Royal Treasurer and High Priest too were unchanged. It was the Battlemaster, a rugged, dark-haired southerner as tall as a Gerudo that she did not recognise.

Court began with the induction of three new Knights and no less than ten soldiers by the Lurelinite Battlemaster. By Urbosa's count, there were now almost twenty standing nights, and nearly fifty soldiers.

"Eight years ago they had less than a quarter of that number," Calliope whispered as the Battlemaster read the induction speech. "Rhoam has strong military ambitions. They are unveiling a fleet of riverboats on the fortnight."

"Riveting," Urbosa quipped. Her aunt gave her a disapproving nudge.

"As heir, you must be aware of these things. What the Hylians do affects us all."

Next, all manner of supplicants came before the throne to speak with the fatigued looking King. They complained of monster attacks, sightings of Yiga, and still, economic strife following the Goron Civil Crisis. They complained that a Sheikah girl had been made Royal Attendant to the Princess, citing the failure of the last Sheikah at Court, until Rhoam shut the matter down as 'non-negotiable'. Finally, the stuffy, unaffected Court announcer read out the next item on the agenda; the Mages of Hyrule. Urbosa gulped, but stood tall, and did not let her nervousness show on her face. She, along with the other Gerudo mage Ana and four Hylian mages stepped forward from the crowd.

"Let me begin by thanking you for waiting so long," The King addressed them. "I am looking for a tutor for my daughter, as you know. She carries a great power, and I would see it fostered."

Before Urbosa could answer, Ana thrust herself forward. "Mages are most common in Gerudo! I am accomplished in the magical arts. Allow me to tutor her."

"A Gerudo?" Scoffed one of the Hylian mages. He was a short, fat voe, with an unkempt appearance and singed clothes.  _Firemancer,_ Urbosa judged. "The Princess is Hylian. A Hylian must tutor her."

"And  _you_ would be the best choice," Ana laughed. Before the firemancer could answer, a third mage stepped forward; a wiry, middle-aged Sheikah voe and the smoothest voice Urbosa had ever heard filled the throne room;

"Of all the Hylians, surely a Sheikah would be best?"

The Court erupted, though the Sheikah mage did not seem phased. Chief Advisor Voswann's gravelly voice rose above the rabble, "You cannot be serious. You should not be here, Malachi!"

Only the King could quieten them. "I invited him!" he announced. "He is a mage, after all."

"A textile mage. The most dangerous kind there is!" Voswann howled, pointing a shaking, wrinkled hand down at the Sheikah, his wrinkled lips flapping like a fish.

"My King, I am the best candidate," Ana asserted.

"And what will happen to those not chosen!?" one of the other mages piped up.

"What kind of mage even is your daughter?" The Firemancer interjected, but not before Voswann repeated, "This Sheikah cannot stay!" and Ana added, "This is folly!"

Hiding in the shadow of the King, the little Princess seemed on the verge of tears. Even so, her head was held high, her face hard as stone. Urbosa felt herself moving forward, felt herself preparing to speak before she knew what for. Her mother and aunt had counselled her to think before she acted; well, perhaps there was  _too_ much thinking going on.

"Rhoam!" she cried, and the shouts died. The King's sharp eyes met hers. "My name is Urbosa. I was a friend of the Queen. If anyone is suited to mentor your daughter, then it is I!"

At the mention of the Queen, the King visibly recoiled.  _He still mourns her, as I do_. Rhoam paused for a long moment, hands gripped tight around the bars of his balcony.  _Remember, you fool! You know I am right!_

As if hearing her thoughts, the King nodded. "It is decided," he said.

* * *

Urbosa was taken to meet with the Princess the very next day. She met her in a hidden courtyard, with winding vines along the walls, and a small fountain built around a spring on the far end. Urbosa had expected to find the Princess sitting and reading, or playing with dolls, but no - the little Zelda was standing  _in_ the fountain, before a Goddess Statue.

A Sheikah girl, the one Urbosa recognised as the Royal Attendant, told Urbosa to wait for the Princess to finish her prayers.

"What is she praying for?"

The attendant sighed, passing an anxious glance over to the fountain. "Divine intervention."

Her tone of voice told Urbosa to enquire no further. Soon the Princess was done, wading dejectedly from the waters into a large towel held up for her by the attendant.

"Thank you, Impa," the Princess said, wrapping the towel around herself. When she caught sight of Urbosa waiting behind her attendant, she gasped, her eyes growing huge at the imposing sight. Not wanting to scare the tiny girl, Urbosa went to her knees and bowed.

"Your Highness, may I present to you Lady Urbosa of Gerudo Town," the attendant named Impa said. Impa nodded for Urbosa to rise, but she did not, wishing to speak to the Princess face to face.

"Are you one of the mages that Father sent for?" Zelda asked meekly.

"I am," Urbosa said proudly, and the Princess' face lit up.

"So you have powers?" she asked excitedly.

"Only some," Urbosa answered with a chuckle. "Do you want me to show you?"

Zelda hastily finished drying off and handed Impa the towel. She extended a hand to Urbosa, "Let us sit by the waters."

Consenting, Urbosa followed the Princess to the fountain, sitting cross-legged beside her. They dangled their feet in the water to cool down from the mid-day heat.

"What are your powers?" the Princess asked.

"Well, there are quite a few kinds in Hyrule," Urbosa explained, trying to recall her lessons on the topic correctly. "For instance,  _I_ am an electromancer," she clicked her fingers, and a small spark erupted from them. The Princess gasped once more, a broad, amazed smile on her face.

"But, there are others," Urbosa went on. "Fire and watermancers, and telekinetics who move things with their mind. And the rarest, and the most difficult magic...well, it's hard to describe, but we call it  _textile_ magic."

"Textile?" The Princess repeated, thumbing the hem of her white dress as though it might have magical properties.

"Magic that manipulates the  _fabric_ of reality. Teleportation, mostly. Have you heard of the Yiga? That is their main art, though few learn it. Most are no more than banana loving oafs."

The Princess frowned. "I don't even know what kind I am," She rested her chin in her palm. "Father says I  _must_ keep trying. That it's what mother would have wanted."

"Well, I know your mother would be proud of your conviction, Princess."

The Princess perked up once more. "Did you know her?"

Urbosa wasn't sure how much to tell the child, worried that her nostalgic words would only make the Princess sorrowful. "Like a sister. We grew up together. She spent two years living in Gerudo Town when I was a girl."

"Do you have any stories of her?"

"Only as many as you wish to hear, little bird," Urbosa smiled.  _Little bird_ ; the phrase gave her pause. She had not expected to say it, but it had come falling from her mouth. The Princess took her hand once more.

"Tell me all the stories," she commanded.

* * *

Beneath the Castle, there was a wonderful silence. Rhoam had endured all manner of uproar ever since bringing those damned mages to Hyrule Castle, with all eyes on him to see how he might fail once more. The newly refurbished docks were an escape from within.

He and Sir Otra had come here to discuss the fleet in private, but as always, their conversation drifted to tactics and training.

"I'm telling you Rhoam," Otra said, impassioned by some prodigy he had met. "There is something about this child. We must bring him to the Castle. I didn't believe Micah's exaggerations about his son but now that I have seen him-"

"I've seen the way you push your Knights, Otra," Rhoam interrupted. "I don't think it wise to subject a boy younger than ten to such a regime."

The Battlemaster opened his mouth to argue, but whatever it was he had to say died on his lips.

"Speak," Rhoam urged him. Otra hesitated still, but garnered the courage to speak as commanded;

"And what about your daughter? Is she not younger than ten?"

A pulse of anger shot through Rhoam's body, but he let it pass. No one could understand Zelda's duty better than him. No one felt the fear that he had felt, every night since Malachi's prophecy in the cards. He saw that burning tower in his dreams. He could not be weak against his own future, real or imagined.

There was a shout behind them; a maid, in her tight caps and habit. "Your Majesty! There you are!" she cried, dropping to her knees, half to bow and half to beg, it seemed. "Oh, Your Majesty, why did you bring them here?"

"Who?" Rhoam demanded, annoyed to be disturbed in his place of refuge.

"Those sorcerers! One set his bed on fire, and the Sheikah mage was quarrelling with Lady Impa all morning. You must send them away!"

"Be on your way," Rhoam instructed the woman. "I will deal with this."

Begrudgingly, Rhoam left the Docks with Otra, re-entering the Castle through its Library. Inside, he found Lady Urbosa, Lady Impa and his daughter talking and laughing, the Princess ostensibly giving the woman a tour of Hyrule's impressive collection. When Zelda saw the King, she ran over to meet him, the happiest he had seen her in awhile. Rhoam knelt down to catch her.

"Thank you for bringing Lady Urbosa to us, Father!" Zelda said, throwing her arms around him. "How long can she stay?"

"Lady Urbosa will be Chief of the Gerudo someday, she cannot remain here forever," Rhoam told her. "Now, have you done your daily vigil?"

The Princess sniffled and then sneezed. "N-no, Father," she said, drawing away and bowing her head.

"Your Majesty, the Princess is unwell," Impa explained, handing the still-sniffling Princess a handkerchief.

"A minor ailment. She will be fine," Rhoam dismissed. "You must show your devotion, Zelda."

"Rhoam…" Otra cautioned. "Think about this-"

"I have!" he snapped, impatient once more. Why must everyone defy him? "If we bow to even a small weakness, we will bow to all challenges."

Urbosa placed a gentle hand on the Princess' shoulder. "I will come with you, little bird. Go with Impa, for now."

The Princess sneezed once again, but she went without complaint. Otra too took the opportunity to depart. Once they were alone, Rhoam directed his simmering rage towards Urbosa.  _Little bird_. How dare she?

"You have no right to call her that," he scolded.

"I have every right. Did our queen take those words with her to the spirit realm?"

"Even so," Rhoam replied, unable to think of a better argument.

Urbosa tossed a thick lock of crimson hair over her shoulder and folded her arms at her chest. She was staring at him, sizing him up like examining a foe for weakness. "You know, you were wise in giving her a friend in that Sheikah girl. She will have few in life."

"So where have you been, Urbosa? We haven't heard from you since Zelda's funeral."

Urbosa looked away from him, nose raised insolently. "I've had battles to fight at home."

Rhoam laughed tauntingly. "Is _that_ the Gerudo word for it? In this part of Hyrule, we call it  _destroying local infrastructure_."

The Gerudo mage's gaze snapped forward. She raised a pointed finger to his face. "Listen, I never much liked you before, and I still don't. But we share one thing in common; we loved our Queen, and we love her daughter, at least, you do under whatever tough guy mask you're wearing as King. We both want to maintain her legacy. Just don't forget who you maintain it  _for_."

She did not give him the final word. With a bow and a swish of her hair, Urbosa turned on her heel to leave.

* * *

_The Hylian, a firemancer, sits in the centre of a strange laboratory as various Sheikah researchers poke and prod him. He has never been scrutinised like this. When did your powers manifest, they ask, and how? Were your parents mages? Have you had any training?_

_He'd come to the Castle expecting to be revered - a rare gem in the rough - but now he knows he's nothing more than an experiment. In his fury, he struggles to even light a candle with his power. The Gerudo woman, the telekinetic, makes quips and remarks about his inadequacy._

_The Firemancer is tired of her sneering, tired of being forgotten, of being shunned. He is better than everyone here. He is a mage! The next time the Gerudo speaks, he lashes out, in a flash of light and heat, the room is on fire. He hears feet scrambling for an exit, the banging against the laboratory door. He tries to follow, but can't see through the smoke. He falls, and knocks his head, unconscious and forgotten once more._

* * *

Every morning and every night, the Princess prayed by the Goddess statue in her secret courtyard. For a week, maybe more, Urbosa watched over her, growing slowly more and more concerned at the suitability of this training. One morning, arriving at the Spring, Urbosa found that Zelda was alone and already in the waters. The Princess was shaking, though Urbosa soon saw that it was not from the cold. Zelda broke her silence, slamming her hands into the water with a frustrated groan.

"No," she whispered to herself, gathering her hands at her chest. She inhaled deeply, in long, slow breaths. " _Focus._ "

"What are you doing, Princess?" Urbosa asked.

The Princess did not open her eyes when she spoke, becoming as still as the statue before her. "Lady Impa tells me to focus whenever I feel frustrated. She says, 'Fury makes us feel strong, but you mustn't succumb to it.'"

 _A lesson I should learn_ , Urbosa thought, rubbing her shoulder where the Yiga's arrow had injured her. "Wise words," she concluded.

Zelda had begun to shake again. Urbosa assumed it was just her frustration, until the Princess sniffled, and began to sway.

"Princess?" Urbosa called. Zelda did not respond. " _Princess!?"_

There was a splash as Zelda fell to her knees, collapsing forward into the water. Urbosa was on her feet immediately, leaping into the water with strong arms outstretched to catch the Princess. "I've got you," she said, carrying her from the fountain. "I'm here, little bird."

In her arms, Zelda still trembled and began sobbing softly into Urbosa's shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay. You did so well," Urbosa soothed, smoothing down her hair. "I think that's enough for today."

* * *

 _A mistake_. That was all it was, calling the mages to Hyrule. A misguided, foolish mistake.

The mages done little but bicker amongst themselves and demand to be made nobles, all because of their shallow ability, and now one was dead, having burned down half of the Sheikah Laboratories. His advisors had suggested  _outlawing_ magic and jailing or executing any mages that rose up. Rhoam refused immediately, but could not help but entertain the idea, and it was not long before the suggestion escaped to the public.  _The folly of King Rhoam_ became a popular topic.  _Inviting sorcerers into his castle, and then threatening to have them executed._

Was this the beast ruling had made him, in just two short years?  _No, it cannot be_. He would send the mages away; the Hylian riverboats were completed. He would send one along each tributary of the Hylia River so that each mage could leave swiftly.

Mulling it over on his study, Rhoam was content to wallow in self-pity when who should burst into his chamber but Lady Urbosa. Just the encouragement he needed.

"Rhoam, we need to talk." She stomped over to his desk and slammed her hands down onto it. "Your daughter...you cannot push her like this anymore."

 _This again_. "Her training is necessary," Rhoam said flatly. "It is her destiny."

"Destiny? She is eight. Her mother did not show signs of powers until she was almost a teenager."

Rhoam looked down to this journal, open in front of him to the very page that Malachi had written in. He ran a hand over the list;  _The Fighter, the Mage, The Archer...The Tower..._

" _Something is coming_ , Urbosa," he admitted fearfully. "I can feel it. Something is  _wrong_ with Hyrule. Ever since...ever since Zelda died. It's like a sickness. I must push my daughter-"

"By causing her suffering? She almost passed out in that fountain she prays in."

"Suffering can be a tool. It makes us who we are."

Urbosa slammed her hands down on the desk. "Magic is a tool! Fury is a tool! But suffering is not!" she closed her eyes, clenching her fists and breathing slowly. The image of Malachi's second tarot card suddenly came to mind; the wise and passionate mage.  _It's her,_ Rhoam realised.  _She is the Mage._

After her pause, Urbosa spoke in a low, but no less accusatory tone. "You are smothering her. How will she one day rule, if she never learns what she needs?"

"Ah, she will have a tutor, but not a mage," Rhoam answered frankly, surprised by Urbosa's sudden calmness and his own revelation. "I am sending them home - and that includes you. Your duties in Gerudo precludes an appointment here."

Urbosa withdrew, caught off guard. "Just like that? They no longer exist to you?"

"Were that they were all like you; at least as talented as they are stubborn," Rhoam sighed. "I cannot allow them to stay, volatile as they are."

"So they must be volatile out in the wild? Unsupported? Unchecked?" with every word, Urbosa grew more and more incredulous and horrified.

Rhoam shrugged.  _Better out there than here_. He wanted peace -  _needed_ peace. It was the right thing to do. Urbosa was still glaring at him, slowly shaking her head.

He implored her to speak. "Lady Urbosa?"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Your Majesty" Urbosa snapped. "Except that, I hope your daughter forgives you, someday."

When she had gone, a small part of Rhoam knew that she was right, but he let that tiny, bothersome voice die out.  _It was the right thing to do_ , he repeated, over and over, until it became a mantra.

* * *

_Dear Princess,_

_I must apologise again for the haste in which I left. However it became impossible for myself and the other mages to stay. I hope one day you learn the full story and understand that I did not leave willingly._

_It may have been providence, however, that I returned home when I did. Do you remember the Yiga that I told you of? Well, they attacked my home, Princess. They climbed the walls of our town and ambushed us in our private courtyard within Gerudo Palace. However, I remembered your advice. So I focused as hard as I could on channeling my anger. And I found my powers stronger than ever before. The Yiga were swiftly defeated, and those sorry fools soon scampered back to their hovels._

_My mother, Chief Riani, was most proud - to her and my surprise. She also heard of how I stood up to your Father, and between us, found it most amusing. My mother says that I, like you, have much to learn, but that I am now on the right path._

_So, little bird, this is my advice to you, from a friend half the world away. You are already so strong, do not doubt that. Strong enough to think for yourself, and stand against your father if need be. So never accept the world as it is, but fight to make it better, and to protect it from harm. That, above all, is your destiny._

_My best regards,_

_Lady Urbosa_

* * *

_One hundred and twelve years later_

* * *

It was well past midnight by the time Zelda finished reading Lady Urbosa's diary. She caught the tears that had begun to fall with her fingers, not wanting to stain the precious artefact. She had forgotten what it was like to have a friend like the Gerudo Champion, to have an ally as passionate and spirited as her. The memory alone brought her great sorrow. Was this a mistake, trying to unearth the past?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a commotion in the next tent over. She heard what sounded like a scuffle, and then cursing in the Gerudo tongue.  _Chief Riju!_

Zelda hurried out in the darkness of the night until she approached the source of the noise. Link was not far behind her, emerging with his longsword held ready in hand. He must have heard as well. They burst into the tent together but halted the moment they saw the scene within.

A trio of Gerudo was holding Chief Riju hostage; one held a knife to her throat, while the other two were poised ready to attack, but instead of swords they wielded short staffs.  _Mages_ , Zelda realised immediately. Riju's bodyguard, Buliara, was locked in a standoff with them, unable to attack lest they kill her chief.

"Unhand me!" Riju shouted. "I will have you executed for this!"

"Is that the Queen?" one of the mages whispered, mortified. "Maybe she will listen!"

"I said, unhand me!" Riju snarled. She raised a hand, poised ready to fight back against her captors with a simple snap of her fingers.

"Wait!" Zelda cried. "Don't!"

Riju shot her an enraged glare. "Excuse me?"

"Do not use your powers like this! Not again!" Zelda begged. Recognition crossed Riju's face; the first Geldarm Bridge. The Bridge she destroyed with the very power she would use now -  _Urbosa's Fury._ Riju hesitated, and so Zelda leapt at the opportunity to speak.

"Unhand the Chief. Tell us why you have come," she commanded the mages. "Or she  _will_ kill you."

"Not if I manage that first," Buliara hissed. The three Gerudo eyed each other nervously, and a moment later Riju was released, shoved into the arms of her bodyguard. The mages fell to their knees.

"You need to help us!" one of them cried. "We are dying, injured by our own magic! We have pleaded the Chief for aid, but we are ignored!"

"You what!?" Riju snapped; she frowned up at her bodyguard. "You told me the mages refused to be spoken to!"

Buliara stammered and stumbled through a response, claiming only to want to protect the Chief, and that she had hoped the mage upheaval would have burnt itself out for long. Soon she too was on her knees.

"My Chief, I admit that I lied. For that I am not worthy to remain in your guard," she said, laying down her claymore.

Riju looked between her fallen bodyguard, the mages (now sobbing as well as begging), and Link and Zelda waiting before her. She spoke first to Buliara.

"Rise," she commanded. "Never keep anything from me again. How can I rule if I am ignorant?"

Buliara nodded and rose. Riju turned next to the mages.

"Desperation makes us do terrible things. I promise you will be desperate no more. You are forgiven. I suppose I will forget that you tried to  _kill me,_ in time."

At that, the three mages poured out their gratitude and sorrow, promising to dedicate their lives to the Chief. Lastly, Riju turned to Link and Zelda. "Tell me, what should I do with them?"

"You trust me? To make this decision for you?" Zelda blurted. She almost laughed, but Riju appeared entirely serious. The Chief fretted nervously, intertwining her shaking fingers.

"I do," she answered. "I should have learnt earlier to trust your judgement."

Zelda thought for a long moment and recalled the mage upheaval that had occurred in her father's time. The Hylians had been afraid of magic then, and had cast out the few mages they had; that could not be allowed to happen again.

"We must embrace the unknown," Zelda concluded. "It is a powerful thing. I would...I would form an academy. Somewhere safe for the mages to congregate, and learn their art. Though I wonder where..."

"The Plateau," Link suggested. "It is uninhabited, and isolated too." Zelda gave him a thankful nod.  _Always here when I need you_ , she thought.

Riju clapped her hands together. "It is settled then. Go, all of you, I would have a moment alone with the Princess."

Buliara and Link led the rogue mages from the tent to find a suitable place to hold them, while Zelda waited for the Chief to speak. But still, Riju fretted, braiding and unbraiding a lock of hair as she worked out what to say.

"Well done, mercy is never easy to show," Zelda praised, breaking the silence. "You are so much like Lady Urbosa."

"Really?" Riju said, with a mixture of delight and surprise. "But...I heard she was famed for her temper."

"She was, as are you," Zelda teased. "But you both learned when to use it. You will be as great a Chief as she was, I know it."

Riju's taut expression softened, and at last, she stopped fretting. A smile returned to her face. "Perhaps...though, I have heard Urbosa had impeccable hair."

Zelda burst into laughter. "And you don't?! I have been thinking about how to ask you to teach me how you braid it for  _months_."

Riju giggled, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. "Well, how about tomorrow then, during lunch?" she suggested. "You know, I think we got off to a bad start. I… I want us to be friends," Riju extended an offering of peace and of mutual forgiveness; a simple, outstretched hand, which Zelda shook gladly.

"As do I," she said.


	4. Revali

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com) for updates/extended notes on this work and general TLOZ shenanigans. Extended notes are linked at the end.

_ Sometimes an advisor will congratulate me for an achievement, but I know I have done nothing. All the work of those below me is ignored. I am simply the one with the crown. _

King Rhoam’s Diary, Entry #82

* * *

Dangling their feet over the cliff face, Link and Zelda sat together on the at the edge of their camp, watching the ombre dusk sky fade into twilight. From their perch, the entirety of the Great Plateau revealed itself to them, though the land beyond its crumbling stone walls was shrouded in low misty clouds.

Soft fingers intertwined with Zelda's own, bringing familiar warmth and strength. She smiled into the sunlight.

"You look happy," Link commented. Zelda simply nodded, content to stay silent and savour this moment.

"Wish I could come home with you," Link went on. He was planning on rerouting north and heading to Akkala Citadel. A few of the knight recruits were nearing the end of their training - his good friend Inglis of Akkala among them - and he intended to bring them to Hyrule for the Battlemaster Teba to assess if they were ready to be knighted. "Robbie will already be annoyed I took this detour."

"Oh, you're heading up to the Lab too?" Zelda asked. She narrowed her eyes. "Is this to work on that _ridiculous_ new contraption of yours?"

Link's grin told Zelda that she was correct. She rolled her eyes. "Nevermind Robbie. You can tell him you were on official business at the Plateau - which is technically true."

They had come to the Great Plateau mainly to scout its potential as the site of a new mage academy, but in actuality, Zelda merely wanted to rest. It was a short stop on the way home from the Maw of Death Mountain, following the inaugural - and wonderfully successful - Grand Summit that had been held there.

Zelda was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, she could get this ruling business right. That she need not fear her father's failures and her mother's legacy. Once the sun was set, she and Link crawled into a lean-to together to rest at each other's side, and Zelda slept better than she had in months, maybe years - maybe decades.

Upon returning to Hyrule Castle the next day, however, Zelda learnt that fate would never be so neat. Chief Advisor Larella greeted Link and Zelda as they arrived, and hastily pulled the Queen into a private meeting, forcing Zelda to abandon her horse and her partner at the gates.

"What has happened?" Zelda demanded once they were alone in her private study. Larella shook her head, and pinched the bridge of her wide nose, pausing to collect her thoughts. Zelda knew her Chief Advisor to be unwavering and stern in the face of her duty. If she was flustered like this, then the Kingdom was in real strife.

"There is no other way of putting this, Your Majesty; your Advisors think Teba and myself are unfit for our positions."

 _What!?_ Zelda could hardly form the words to speak. Her advisory team was small but trustworthy; Hylian representatives from Akkala, Hateno and Lurelin, Impa of Kakariko Village (who preferred, for obvious reasons, to advise by letter), her Royal Treasurer, a former merchant named Verne, and Saki of Rito Village. That this tight-knit group of people would call her appointments unfit struck deep within her.

"What has Teba done?" Zelda asked, mortified by the news. "What have you done!?"

"They will not admit it, but they dislike answering to a Zora. They believe a _Hylian_  Queen should be advised by _Hylians_ ," Larella explained, tone strained. "That does not include Sheikah or Yiga. Some of your advisors privately despise that you hosted them at the Summit."

That was not unexpected, Zelda could not ask thousand year prejudices to change in three days. "But...what about Saki? She is Rito, surely she understands being an outsider."

Larella fidgeted, playing with the silver jewels about her neck. "That woman and I do not get along. You know I disagree with her being here."

Zelda sighed. The pain of Larella's recent past was still clear on her face; pain that Saki, however indirectly, was a part of. The scars of the Civil war still remained, despite the year that had passed.

"And Teba?" Zelda asked apprehensively.

"No, you can talk to that man yourself," Larella threw up her hands in resignation. "You know where he will be."

Indeed Zelda did. She found Teba in the training yard of the Castle, furiously loosing arrow after arrow into a hapless training dummy.

"I think that one's dead," Zelda said wryly, startling the Rito so much so that he dropped his bow.

"Are you Sheikah now? Sneaking through the shadows?" Teba grumbled.

"Are you Sheikah now, _Your Majesty_?" Zelda corrected, walking over to pick up the discarded bow. "If you're going to sulk at me, afford me my proper title at least."

"You've heard, haven't you?" Teba said, adding, " _Your Majesty_."

"What did you do, Teba?" Zelda asked gently.

Teba took his bow and slung it over his shoulder. He told his story without emotion, and without plea for forgiveness;

"There is much to rebuild. Too much. Verne has been working to raise taxes, generate revenue. Only merchants are merchants, and some will always be seed scroungers who cheat the system."

Zelda sensed where the tale was heading.

"One refused to pay, so I utilised some of my scouts. Sent them down to, encourage him. Things got out of hand. He's injured. Wants compensation. Larella grounded my entire fleet."

"You had your scouts _beat up one of my subjects_!?" Zelda said incredulously. "How can I defend this!?"

"You don't need to defend me," Teba frowned, pushing past her to leave the yard.

"You are _my_ Battlemaster! I appointed you!"

Teba spun around and threw open his wings. "Why? Because you thought I would be good at this? Me? A failed teacher, a failed warrior!"

"I didn't expect you to mess up this bad!" Zelda snapped before slapping a hand over her mouth. The regret was immediate. 

"Well, I did," Teba said with resignation. He became no longer her stern and resourceful _Battlemaster Teba_ then, but just himself; the confidant and friend she had gained during their travels in Hebra together. "I'm sorry, Sparrow, I really am," Teba turned and threw open his wings. "But there is no excuse, I will atone."

A powerful gust of air erupted from beneath him; a swilrling column of torpedoing winds. _Revali's Gale_.

"Teba, wait-" Zelda cried, but it was too late. With a swift flap of his wings, he was launched skywards. Zelda considered unlatching her paraglider to chase him, but knew there was no use.

 _Rito pride_ , she thought to herself, glumly watching Teba disappear towards the horizon. _Just like your predecessor._

* * *

  _One hundred and eight years earlier_

* * *

Hooded, and hidden bellow deck, King Rhoam waited in the dark hull of a riverboat. It rocked against the gentle swell of the northern Hylia River, on the waters between Rauru Village and the Castle itself. A storm was rolling through, low rumbling accented against the steady waves. No fishermen would be found on the water now; the riverboat was alone. There was a bump against the side of the hull. A visitor. Rhoam tensed, reaching forward to uncork the wine bottle on the table in front of him, pouring two glasses of the red velvet liquid.

He heard no sounds above deck, and no steps as his visitor descended into the cabin; only a honeyed voice. "Curious place of meeting, Your Majesty."

His visitor took a seat opposite him, moving into the light; he was lithe, unchanged. "Not as curious as your reputation, fortune teller," Rhoam answered.

"And yet, we still meet," Malachi smiled. Rhoam took a gulp of his wine, but the fortune teller did not even reach for his.

"Well, I have few allies," Rhoam admitted. "However, I finally managed to get a straight answer out of Voswann as to why you were exiled. They're afraid of you. I like that."

Malachi leaned back in his chair, taking his glass and swirling the wine. "I admit I like it also."

Rhoam laughed, taking another sip. He had begun to warm to this strange Sheikah. "I thought you'd attempted a human sacrifice or stolen royal coin, but it was much worse."

"A matter of opinion."

Rhoam leaned in close, the matter entirely hilarious to him. "You conspired with the Yiga to steal an heirloom that could bring Sheikah technology back to its golden age," he chuckled into his glass. "You! A Sheikah!"

"Now you see why Zelda had to expel me. The Sheikah fear their past, as do the Hylians. I only did what would benefit the Crown," the Sheikah finally took a sip of his wine and looked down into his glass as if to divine something from it. "But you and I both know something is coming for Hyrule."

 _One would not know it_ , Rhoam thought. Over the past four years, Hyrule was finally beginning to recover. The effects of the Civil Crisis were past, and reports of mage activity was rare. It was Rhoam's advisors that had started to grate on him. The recent upheavals had made them fearful. They despised change, vetoed nearly all of his ideas; expanding the Hylian fleet was too costly, settling Akkala too much work, finding a Sheikah tutor to train the Princess too risky.

Even the Sheikah already at court, they shunned. When the Spymaster Henagahn had retired, his apprentice Impa, a Sheikah girl of only fourteen and attendant to Princess Zelda, was to take his place. Young Lady Impa was shrewd and more observant than half of her colleagues. Yet it was not her age or skill that caused the Advisors to disapprove of her, but her birth.

Bringing Malachi back to court - the enticing and poisonous concoction of a man that he was - would be nigh on impossible. And yet...

"Take up residence in Rauru, just north of here," Rhoam commanded. "I can secure you a place at court, but I will need time."

Malachi nodded, unphased. "I have waited twelve years to return to Hyrule. I can wait a few more months."

With the Sheikah departed, Rhoam returned quietly to the castle. It was mid-morning by then. Court would begin soon, and so he passed by the one place that calmed his nerves; the training yard.

Sir Nico of Rauru had a line of new recruits all with bows in hand, running them through archery drills. Judging by the number of arrows in the dummies in front of them, they were not doing very well.

"Have you got your eyes closed?" Sir Nico roared. "At this distance, my grandmother could hit that target! Again!"

The young boys nocked their arrows, aimed, and loosed. Only one landed; square in the middle of his dummy's head. In fact, this was the only dummy that had been hit anywhere near the head.

"Well done again, Master Link," Nico praised. "I'm starting to think you're the only one here with any semblance of talent! That's enough for the rest of you. You're better off running laps!"

With a groan, the boys put down their bows and began running the length of the yard.

"My apologies for the dismal display, Your Majesty," Sir Nico said as Rhoam approached. "These boys aren't your dime a dozen soldiers. They're future knights, so they must train hard."

Rhoam pointed to the ash-blonde boy amongst the group, the one who was apparently a prodigy. "That Link - Micah's son, right?"

"The very same," Nico said proudly as if Link were his own."He's my favourite. Never talks back. Link's skills are wasted here, though. What I wouldn't give for a Rito to come and teach these idiots."

"A Rito?"

"An archer," Nico clarified.

"Ah, naturally," Rhoam said, hiding his sudden concern. _Number twelve. The Archer._ Malachi's cards had struck once again. Was it wise or foolish to chase them? "That could be just the trick, Sir Nico," Rhoam decided. "Is there anyone who can take over your duties here?"

Nico thought for a moment and frowned. "Micah is the next best archer, and it might help that old fool to see his son in action."

Rhoam was taken aback; gossip among the Knights that he wasn't aware of? "Is there a problem?"

"Ask Micah. I shouldn't have said anything," Nico quickly changed the subject. "Are we going to Hebra then, Your Majesty?"

"Precisely," Rhoam smiled, excited by the prospect.

Upon the battlements, he caught sight of two small figures, one in white and one in blue; his daughter and her Sheikah attendant, Impa. Dismissing Nico, Rhoam marched up to the battlements to confront the two girls - Zelda ought to be at her lessons, or completing her training, not dallying about watching the young men at their practice. The thought made Rhoam intensely nervous. All three of Elder Soklee, Apothecary Willem and Lady Urbosa had warned Rhoam that Zelda was about to enter her adolescence, bringing with it a new round of concerns. _She will begin developing a mind of her own_ , Urbosa had written. _And it will rarely ever agree with yours._

That much was true already. Little Zelda had all the spirit of her mother, who she was growing to resemble in more than just appearance. When Rhoam reached the battlements to ask her why she wasn't at her studies, the Princess simply said;

"Because I wanted to be out here."

"Watching the recruits is hardly fundamental to your learning," Rhoam said, once again nervously thinking about Zelda's true wishes. "Or to ruling."

Zelda folded her arms, the long sleeves of her deep navy dress gathering about her arms. _She dresses just like her mother, too._

"Then why were you out here, Father?" she asked.

Rhoam said the words before he realised the trick. "Because I wanted to be-ah."

The Princess giggled, celebrating her small victory. "What is it you were discussing with Nico?"

"Am I being interrogated?"

"I simply want to learn to rule. Aren't you my tutor in that?"

Too excited by his idea, and not wanting to be outwitted any longer, Rhoam relented to telling Zelda and Impa of his discussion with Nico as they walked together back into the Castle.

"A journey to Hebra!" the Princess crooned. "Oh, I've never been!"

"Well, you must stay here." Rhoam quickly countered. "You have your studies and your training. Your mother began showing signs of her abilities at this age."

Zelda folded her arms once again and pouted ungracefully. "I haven't left this Castle in four years," she complained. "How can I rule someday if I spend my whole life here?"

"You won't spend your whole life here, little one, you know that. When you are grown up, and when you have accessed your power-"

"What if staying here is what is preventing me? My tutor told me about Springs, all around Hyrule, dedicated to the Goddess..."

"You are too young, you could be hurt, or worse. Your mother-"

"I am not Mother!" Zelda shouted. Rhoam was too stunned by the sudden outburst to scold her. He saw the flash of anger in her eyes and knew immediately; _she gets her temper from me_. The Princess went on, "I know that's what you think. I know that's why you won't let me leave!"

"Zelda-" Rhoam felt his own anger rising, but the Princess would not relent. She pointed towards the west, where the Hebra mountains sat out of view.

"There is a Goddess statue in Rito Village. I know there is, I can pray there," the little Princess tugged on his cloak, emerald eyes shining. "Let me come with you, please Father!"

It was hard to deny her then when she looked at him like that. She was too much like her mother. "Fine, we will go to Hebra together," Rhoam conceded. "And Goddess help me, we will not return until we find the best archer who ever lived."

* * *

The string was too taut; Revali pulled it back a second time, and then a third, testing the weight. He reached up to the mechanical constraints of his brand-new Great Eagle bow, and considered loosening the string, but stopped himself. _I just need to grow stronger. The string is fine._

What a treasure this weapon was - a tri-shot, painted a deep mauve, curved and pointed like a noble Rito beak. It was perfectly weighted and was almost as tall as Revali himself. He had feared he would never be able to use it, but the bow's maker was confident in his abilities. His sister, Orni the blacksmith's apprentice, had gifted it to him upon receiving his wings not two weeks prior. He was one of the youngest Rito ever to attain their wings, most being at least two decades old before even considering it.

"How do you like it for far?" she asked expectantly, hovering over him as he inspected the weapon.

Revali pulled back the string once more, straining slightly under the weight. "Oh, you know, it will _do_."

Orni gave him a playful shove, snatching the prized weapon from his hands. "Your big bird act doesn't work with me, Revali."

"It's not an act."

"Yeah, yeah," Orni rolled her eyes. She adjusted some of the gears of Great Eagle bow and handed it back to him. "And you don't mind how those wildfowls tease you either, do you, little brother?"

"Are we going or what?" Revali snapped, but Orni just laughed. When he tested the string again, he realised she'd loosened it for him.

Packing their gear, the pair made their way down through Rito Village, planning to head south towards the Tanagar Canyons. Flying practice, Revali had decided, though Orni was happy to tag along and play spotter. As the elder sibling, she knew she would be held responsible if Revali crashed into the side of the canyon and broke a wing or two, as unlikely as that was.

Passing through the tall, windblown isles that lead from the village and spanned across Lake Totori, Revali and Orni ran into a flock of the aforementioned wildfowls; Alba, Nev and Rhian, a trio of boastful Rito that made it their mission to pester Revali at all times. It was impossible to avoid them, meeting as they did on a lofty and narrow rope-bridge. Revali saw they carried swords at their hips but wore no pauldrons on their armour.

"That weapon's almost as big as you!" Alba goaded, towering over Revali wit a sneer, as most of the other Rito did.

"What are you hunting down?" Nev feigned interest. "A lynel? A hinox?"

And Rhian added, "I bet they're shaking! The Great Revali has come to defeat them!"

"And who here has their wings?" Revali shot back, running a fingertip over his own pointed pauldrons - they were a sign of the mastery of flight, given to young Rito when they officially came of age. "Which of you could even hope to out-shoot me?"

The taller one, Alba, surged forward, a fist raised, "Give us that bow then. I'll snap it in half, then we'll see what you're made of!"

Orni stepped in his way, a dagger drawn and held against his thigh. " _Don't_."

"Drop it, Alba," Nev said smugly. "The Great Revali's got his sister here to protect him."

Orni pushed on across the bridge, and scowling, Revali followed her from his taunters.

Through mountain passes and down the canyon they climbed until they were alone together in the vast expanse of ochre rock. Tanagar Canyon was like a winding river, and it wound and turned for ten, perhaps twenty miles in its full length. The perfect place to test the new bow. There was no time to waste; if Revali was going to prove what he was truly capable of, then he'd need to give it his training everything he had.

For the rest of the day, he flew back and forth, launching arrow after arrow, practising swooping and diving, ascending as high as he could (which was admittedly, not very high), while Orni waited below. She had brought her own work too; a handful of Sparrow bows that needed tuning for the fledgelings to use. While Orni worked, Revali trained, never relenting, not even as the sun began to set.

"Revali, we should get going!" Orni called. "It isn't safe in the canyon after dark!"

"Just a little while longer," Revali answered as he soared overhead. He landed before her, and looked down along the canyon, made almost crimson by the rich dusk light. "Why don't we have a race? To close out the day?"

"Yeah, right," Orni snorted. "You _know_ you'd win,"

Revali made no pretence. "Precisely why I suggested it. How about from here to that giant temple. That shouldn't be too much for you, dear sister."

Orni lowered the bow she was working on. "You're on."

They raced side by side through the canyon, along the twists and turns. Revali's wings ached, but it was a satisfying ache that would leave him stronger in the morning. Pushing himself harder, he cackled with laughter when he looked over his shoulder to see his sister trailing behind.

Nearing the first bend in the canyon, Revali careened around it with ease.

His exhilaration vanished in an instant as, rounding the corner, Revali was confronted with the most glorious and terrifying sight he had ever seen.

Gliding effortlessly towards him, not caring a wit for the little Rito in its path, was an otherworldly fiery red dragon, with curved horns and an unaffected, ancient face. Revali banked fiercely, soaring straight into the canyon wall and tumbling unceremoniously to the ground. Regaining his orientation, he gazed in awe as Dinraal passed overhead, fire circling its long tail. He had heard of it - how it only appeared to those who were blessed by the Goddess - but to see it! The dragon brought with it a stream of updrafts, though they began high above Revali's head; he would not be able to chase it even if he wanted to.

 _Orni_! Revali remembered, horrified that his sister was still hurtling towards the creature. He moved just in time to see Orni glide around the corner and collide with the dragon's shining scales. Tumbling through the air, she was swept skywards by one of the powerful updrafts.

Revali screeched for his sister, but she did not hear. _She's unconscious! I need to reach her before she_ _falls_!

The need overtook all thought; Revali became his will. As he was preparing to try and lift himself from the canyon, a gust of air erupted from beneath his wingtips - his own updraft! Spreading his wings, he allowed himself to be carried high into the air by the sudden sorcery. Up and out of the canyon Revali flew, the dragon growing small below him. He spotted Orni in an instant and dived towards her as she plummeted back towards the canyon. When he was within reach, he jutted his talons forward and caught her around the shoulders to lift her to safety.

They took refuge on the side of the canyon, as Orni slowly came too.

"I told you it wasn't safe," she chided him weakly.

"I know what you said," Revali tried his best to be cold and practical, but he saw Orni's singed left wing, he crumbled. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I'm fine, little brother. It's you who needs to be less brash," Orni said, groaning as she sat up. She looked down into the canyon, where her Sparrow bows had been left. "No hope of retrieving those now," she sighed. "Not unless I want to waste a day hiking down there to retrieve them."

Revali looked at his wingtips. _Perhaps_ _I_ _could_ _get_ _them if I knew what that power was_. Returning with Orni to Rito Village, he resolved to find out.

* * *

The call to put his discipline to the test came the very next day; word reached Lake Totori that the Hylian King was to visit Rito Village in search of an archer. They would arrive in a month, and in the lead-up, the Rito Elder Komli decided to hold a series of contests.

This was the opportunity Revali had been waiting for; to finally be seen as worthy in the eyes of the elders, now that he had his wings. Taking Orni's advice to heart, he trained on a strict, focused schedule. He had a good eye, but he needed to improve his strength. From dawn until dusk, when he wasn't tending to Orni's injured wing, Revali trained and trained until he collapsed into his roost, exhausted.

And when the archery contests came around, the work had paid off. Bullseye after bullseye was hit, and contest after contest he won. Those brutes who'd tormented him watched in awe and horror as one by one, Revali outmatched all competition with his sister's Great Eagle bow. They were a prize pair; the talented blacksmith, and the prodigious archer.

At last, the week before the King was due to arrive, Elder Komli named Revali the overall winner, and offered him a single boon. Thinking in that strange power he had been gifted near Dinrael, Revali knew immediately what to ask. There was a ravine, north of the village, which was sometimes filled with powerful updrafts. He would have it converted into a flight training spot.

"A grand idea! It is done!" Elder Komli announced, and the village cheered, chanting Revali's name. He spied Orni's smiling face amongst the crowd, but even her pride was nothing compared to the adoration of the entire village. This was what he'd worked so hard for; this was what he deserved.

The Flight Range was constructed within a week and completed the day that the King of Hyrule was due to arrive. Revali rose early and flew down to the range to inspect everything. Nothing could be out of place, not a single target. The King of Hyrule was to see Revali's skills this day. He could not bring himself shame.

Standing on the edge of the circular ravine, Revali crouched down low, his wings spread and eyes closed. He thought on the power he had accessed in Tanagar Canyon. If he could figure out a way to unlock it once again...

"Hey, arrowhead!" came the shout from behind. It was Alba, followed by Nev and Rhian. Revali grimaced and turned to meet them, standing as tall as he could.

"I don't have time for your nonsense, Alba. Unless you'd like an archery match? Do you need me to put you in your place once more?"

Alba grunted and shot forward, a broad wingtip seising Revali by the neck. Revali dug his talons into the rock but was helpless as Alba shoved him out over the edge of the ravine.

"Do you need me to put you in your place!?" As Revali failed and kicked helplessly, Alba stole the Great Eagle bow from his back and tossed it down into the ravine. A strangled _No_! escaped from Revali's beak as he flapped and struggled, gasping for air. With a vicious sneer, Alba opened his wing and let Revali fall.

"Good luck impressing the King!" he shouted, his voice echoing against the sheer rocky walls.

Reorienting himself just in time, Revali landed on his feet, though his neck throbbed with pain. Thankfully, the Great Eagle bow sat undamaged a few feet away, but Revali had an even greater problem. The King would arrive in Rito Village in less than an hour, and the updrafts that would typically carry him back up to the surface were absent today. Perhaps it was the weather. Revali opened his wings, but no magical updraft came. No, maybe it was fate.

Either way, Revali knew he would have to climb.

* * *

The Hylians came with great fanfare in the first political envoy since the Goron Civil Crisis. Everyone from the Battlemaster down to a simple court poet and his milky-faced Sheikah apprentice had come, waving banners, leading horses.

Elder Komli greeted the Hylians at the base of the village, bowing low and holding his wings wide. _Welcome, Hyrule King, and Princess too, to Rito Village._

Pleasantries were made, and remade, and then remade, until at last the King of Hyrule dared to broach the question; where were the candidate archers that were promised?

The Elder scratched his beak, his feathers clearly ruffled. Nervous looks were exchanged, and, imperceptibly, a trio of young Rito grinned amongst themselves. _That'll show that upstart_. Orni, the blacksmith's apprentice, fidgeted and preened, wondering where her brother could possibly be. She considered opening her beak to explain his uncharacteristic absence.

But there was no need. As the Elder stumbled through another round of hasty apologies, the crowd parted. Standing only as tall as the most modestly statured Hylian, and carrying on his back the greatest bow that the Hylians had ever seen was a deep-blue Rito, his feathers mussed and his clothes muddied and a little torn. He marched right up to the King, examined him with a sharp eye, and then bowed.

"If you're looking for a master flyer and an expert archer, then here I am," he announced. "Revali, of Lake Totori."

The King laughed. For a moment the Rito's confidence was shot, but then the Rhoam nodded. "And there you are," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "The Archer."

* * *

Naturally, the King did not depart Rito Village immediately. In celebration of Revali being chosen, the Elder threw a grand feast, and the entire village was turned into a banquet as each house hosted a party of Hylians and Rito alike. The King and Princess ate in Elder Komli's hut, along with Revali and the other distinguished warriors. Ah, what a phrase! _The other distinguished warriors_. Revali had finally joined their ranks, and he could hardly contain his excitement, though he revealed very little of it.

As the night wore on, the feast showed no signs of tapering off. It didn't suit Revali to talk so freely for so long. He didn't mind being watched; when he had his bow in hand, loosing arrow after arrow, he felt no stronger. But _talking_ and _listening_ to others. No, it didn't suit him.

Without excusing himself, he quietly slipped from the party, taking his Great Eagle Bow with him. He skulked down a few levels to the edge of the village, where he could be alone with his bow and his eye. Or so he thought.

"Excuse me, Sir Revali," came the tiny, polite voice. He turned to see a little girl, with enormous green eyes and golden hair made luminescent under the moonlight. She could be no other but the Princess. Revali frowned. He'd never liked children, let alone little sparrows like this one. "You're the one to come to Hyrule to teach the Knights, aren't you?" the Princess asked.

"Yes, I am," Revali exhaled. "How very astute of you."

The Princess smiled, trying to get a closer look at his bow as she approached. Perturbed, Revali backed away from her.

"I don't mean to pry," the Princess apologised. "Only, if I may, we never saw you use your bow."

 _A challenge_! Revali leapt at the opportunity, but put on a yawn. "Oh, Is that all? Well, wait here."

Returning to his and Orni's hut, Revali fetched a trio of bomb arrows and returned to the Princess. And then, leaping from the railing, swooped down towards Lake Totori, turning and ascending so fast that he felt he cut the air. When he judged himself to be back in view, Revali flipped over backwards, loaded the trio of arrows and loosed them up towards the Spire of Lake Totori. They exploded into fireworks, decorating the sky in gold and red sparks. Once it was done, and with a casual ease that suggested the display was a daily occurance, Revali landed back in front of the now cheering Princess.

"That was amazing!" she cried. "Rito fireworks! Oh, I wish I could shoot a bow. Father won't let me."

"Yes, yes," Revali hummed, hearing only her praise. There was applause from the village too, he heard. "It is quite spectacular."

"You should teach me!" the Princess said. "When you come to Hyrule!."

Revali appraised the child with disdain; she looked barely strong enough to hold a bow let alone loose any arrows. He crossed his wings and raised his beak high. "And why would I do that?"

_"Excuse me?"_

He shooed the girl away. "Don't you have your own training, you know, studies and whatnot. And that power you seem unable to attain."

The Princess spoke in a tiny voice. "Y-you've heard of that?"

"Oh, everyone has," Revali said, clicking his beak. "Your Father described it to me as something of utmost importance."

"Well, I'm trying," the girl murmured. She balled her fists. "It's never been done alone before!"

"And that should stop you!? Humph!"

"I asked you to help me not scold me!" the Princess snapped, stamping a foot.

"Me? Helping you, some insolent little Princess?" With a flick of his braids, Revali turned away from her, gazing out over Lake Totori below. He hoped she would leave, but after a few moments, there was a sniffle behind him. He did not turn.

"Why are you so cruel?" came the girl's soft voice.

"I'll have you know I can be much worse," Revali told her. He cast one, unsympathetic eye back over his shoulder, dismissing her once more with a wave of his wing. "I'm going easy on you because of your small size, you know. No one ever offered me that consideration!"

"Well, you're just as bad as them!" the Princess sobbed. He heard her stomp back up the winding stairs, calling over her shoulder as she went, "And I'm not small!"

Revali tightened his scowl. Good riddance, he thought. But then, absurdly, he felt a little guilty. The girl's words had reached something within him. _I'm not as bad as those other Rito, or that idiot Alba. Am I?_

Admittedly, he had just made a child cry. With a sigh, Revali swallowed his pride and turned.

"Wait, Princess...uh, Zelda isn't it?" he called up the stairs. The child appeared at the top of the nearest flight, lips quivering. He waved her down, and like a shy elk, she approached. "Stand next to me," Revali instructed. "Stand side on, chin up. Back straight. Raise your arms, one out to the side and one across the chest."

The Princess did as instructed.

"Archery isn't about tricks, despite what it looks like," Revali began to explain. "It's discipline. The only way to hit what you want to is to shoot the same way every time. Keep your chin up. Where are you aiming?"

The Princess did not hesitate. "The Castle," she answered.

"And where's your eye?"

"My...hands?"

Revali shook his head. "Look at the Castle."

"But, how will I see where my arrow is?"

"Don't you trust yourself?" Revali pointed to one of her waiting, open eyes. "Aim with that. Believe in nothing and no one else. Just your eye, just yourself. The rest will follow."

* * *

As the Hylian envoy made its way back to the Castle, the Rito Archer strangely preferred to walk. When Rhoam inquired as to why, Revali simply remarked that Rito had wings, so why subject themselves to a mount?

"One of our few weaknesses is that we Rito struggle to ascend," Revali explained further. "If we could manage that, we'd have taken over all of Hyrule."

"I don't doubt it," Rhoam laughed. He pulled his horse back into a slow canter to keep pace with the archer. "Still, there is space in the wheelhouse is you wish."

The Rito waved away the suggestion. "What about you, the King, riding atop a horse with your Knights? It's admirable."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be clammed up in a carriage," Rhoam said, awkwardly realising his hypocrisy. He thumbed towards the carriage beside him. "Neither does the Princess, trust me. We can't see through those curtains, but she's seething at me right now."

"I suppose it makes sense, wanting to protect family…" the Rito mused. At that moment, Zelda drew back the curtains, shooting daggers at her father. Rhoam smiled and waved, but that seemed to sour her mood further. As he turned away, in his periphery, Rhoam caught sight of her poking out her tongue, as well as the Rito archer hurriedly stifling an amused smile.

There was the sound of hooves on gravel, and Sir Nico and Battlemaster Otra rode up on either side of the Rito. "What about you, Rito, just up and leaving your family?" Sir Otra questioned.

"I don't need family," Revali answered as if calling a bluff. "Why, are you jealous of my mobility?"

"Aye, but you're green as grass," Nico replied. "How old are you?"

"What does it matter? I gained my wings like any other Rito Warrior!"

Nico glared down at the archer. "I don't want to answer to a kid, for a start."

"Well, you can start by not acting like one," Revali returned, brows making daggers across his stern face. Nico huffed and kicked his horse into a gallop to speed away from the group. A waft of dust was thrown into the Rito's face, but he did not even cough.

"If you want the respect of those knights, you're going to have to do more than gloat," Battlemaster Otra offered, but Revali ignored him, and the party fell into a tense silence. Just what I need, Rhoam thought.

The entire journey back to the Castle, the Rito, Otra, and Nico (as well anyone else who dared get in the way) bickered and taunted one another relentlessly. Nico challenged Revali to no less than three archery contests, with the Rito winning each time.

"I'd ask you not to kill each other before we reach the Castle," Rhoam told them.

"I make no promises," Nico grumbled after this third failed challenge.

Finally, mercifully, they arrived back at the Castle, but the Revali's work could not begin immediately. The appointment of a new officer to the Royal staff required more than just the King's decree; the Council of Advisors had to approve Rhoam's choice as well. While they waited for the matter to be heard, Revali settled in the guard's chambers above the First Gatehouse and pestered Sir Nico to allow him to observe a few training sessions. Finally, after a few week's wait, the Council was ready to meet on the young Rito's appointment.

Nervously aware of the way the archer and the Knights had clashed on the road, Rhoam brought Revali before his advisors. They met in the Council Chambers, a long, frigid hall with only one window, furnished with nothing more than a cedarwood table and portraits of Hyrule's succession of Queens and Prince Consorts. Rhoam noted that his was the only one to read _King_.

Brought before them, Revali was examined like a bull for sale, while the advisors sat around the grand table. Chief Advisor Voswann eyed Revali suspiciously, while Battlemaster Otra maintained a steady, disapproving frown. Apothecary Willem, untrained in healing anything other than Hylians, quietly remarked that he had heard Rito physiology was poorly studied. The Royal Treasurer, High Priest and even the little Spymaster-to-be Impa, an outsider herself, looked hesitant and unwelcoming. Revali's reputation clearly preceded him, as did the reputation of the Rito.

Rhoam cleared his throat and began. "I have gone to Hebra to find an archery teacher for our knights and soldiers. I believe this Rito would best suit."

"And will you be seeking a Zora to teach spear-wielding?" Voswann protested. "A Goron for great blades, a Gerudo for sorcery?"

Revali snickered at the notion. "That's not a half bad idea if you here can't do your jobs."

"My Knights are more than capable teachers," Battlemaster Otra said sternly.

"Naturally, though that makes me wonder why _I_ am here," Revali taunted. He set a hard gaze on the Battlemaster. "Unless - your knights _aren't_ what you say they are!"

Otra scowled, visibly furious. His usual calm exterior had been worn down by the Rito and was under threat of cracking.

"We could always use more help," Rhoam tried to diffuse the situation. "Revali has already agreed."

"Yes, however," Revali cut in, and Rhoam gulped. The Rito brought a wide wing to his chest. "If my talents are going to be used to train knights, then I would like to be one!"

Voswann looked as though he'd swallowed bitter poison. "Preposterous. Unprecedented!" he cried. Otra was equally unimpressed.

"You cannot make demands like this," the Battlemaster said. "Not of my academy."

The Rito held open his wingtips amicably, an offer of facetious peace. "Well, I am. That is my one and only term."

"I believe Revali has a point," Rhoam stepped in. "What if there is scope to extend the academy?"

Maybe this was where Malachi's cards were leading, Rhoam wondered. The Fighter, the Mage, the Archer - _non-Hylians at the Castle?_

"I agree with His Majesty. Why shun the expertise of the other races?" added Apothecary Willem.

"Because these are the _Hylian_ Knights!" Voswann insisted. "They have been for 10,000 years, and uncountable years before."

"And do you really think nothing will change!?" Rhoam said desperately. He thought of Malachi's words; _something is coming_. "10,000 years of peace, how much longer could it last?"

"Superstition!" Voswann rebuffed. He gestured to the Rito. "Just as vile as this one's pride."

Revali pointed a long, accusing wingtip at the Chief Advisor. " _You_ asked me here. I left my home, my family, and my people for you - and I make one demand."

"You ask too much, Rito," Otra sighed.

"I do not."

"Enough. We will have a vote!" Voswann banged a feeble fist down onto the cedarwood table. He cast his unfeeling eye towards the Rito. "Revali, isn't it? This is your last chance to endear yourself to us, make it count."

Rhoam watched helplessly as Revali turned on his heel and looking back over his shoulder at the advisors with an impetuous frown. "I know my worth," he said.

* * *

The training yard of Hyrule Castle was suitable enough, Revali supposed. An ample open space, with a few rows of targets and an area for sparring. Hardly the eminence he had expected of the royal training ground. Revali had heard since his youth that the Hylian army was ever growing. It would outgrow this place, soon enough.

He looked back towards the Castle. Those advisors would be voting on his fate right now. A quiet voice within him spoke, sounding absurdly like that little Princess; _You're just as bad as them_. He absconded the thought. Revali unshouldered his bow and found that his wings were shaking. Worry was a weakness. He would train. That was the only way to feel better.

Finding a handful of arrows on a nearby bench, Revali loosed all three towards the targets and was satisfied when each landed as a bullseye.

"Amazing as ever!" came the voice from within, only Revali soon realised it was real, and belonging to a figure standing behind him. _You again_? He turned to see the little Princess herself, watching him from across the yard.

He folded his wingtips at his hips. "Can I help you?"

"I only wanted to watch," the Princess said, picking up a bow from the weapon rack. The weapon was absurdly large in her small hands. She imitated pulling back the string, keeping her arms raised, and her eye on the targets - just as Revali had instructed.

"Well, I suppose I won't suffer a feather if you watch," Revali sighed. "Unless you talk, of course," he added, privately realising he wouldn't mind either way.

The girl hadn't heard, too focused on her bow. "I would do _more_ than watch. If Father lets you join the Academy, then maybe he'll let me train too."

"It's not easy being a warrior," Revali said.

"Might be nicer than being a Princess," the girl murmured, and Revali felt a pang of sympathy. Couped up in a Castle all day? He wouldn't like it one bit.

"I wonder if it will mean Lord Daruk and Lady Urbosa can come here more often," the Princess went on. "Maybe they could be Knights too. Though, they're too good to be Knights…"

"What about _Champions_?" Revali offered, immediately scoffing at the notion. "No, it's too much. A warrior is more than just their title."

"They are their discipline, like you said," The Princess affirmed. She admired the Great Eagle bow in his wingtips. "Sir Revali, if someday I can be half as good at my powers as you can with your bow, then I'll do whatever it takes. I'll never give up. I'll _show_ my father."

It was impossible not to smile at her devotion. "I expect nothing less, Princess."

Zelda was about to respond, when the King arrived in the yard, flanked by his decrepit old Chief Advisor and Battlemaster Otra. The King shot the Princess a withering glare, but she stood form at Revali's side.

Chief Advisor Voswann looked down his nose at Revali as he gave the news. "The Council has decided. We cannot take on a non-Hylian Knight."

Not a surprise, but a disappointment all the same. Revali cast a stern gaze at the King. "You have no power to overturn this?"

"I'm sorry, Revali. I disagree with their decision but…" Rhoam eyed his advisor with chagrin. "I must work with the Council. I have no other supporters."

"Well, what if you did?" Revali challenged him. "What if there was another way to salvage this mess? Let me lead, and I will prove myself once and for all. If not Knights, then what about…" he almost laughed when he recalled the word. "What about Champions, from each race?"

The Princess' face lit up, but the King merely frowned. "Whatever it is, it cannot happen now."

"You may stay, of course. As Nico's assistant, to teach the recruits archery," Battlemaster Otra offered glibly.

Voswann raised a genial hand to speak. "You see, the Council thinks that being a Knight requires a certain...discipline. Rito as you are, well, there is more to it than merely some uncivilised frolicking and hunting in the woods, as I'm sure you can understand."

 _Uncivilised_!? Was that how they saw Revali and his people? Savages from the mountains? Revali looked at the little Princess seething beside him and thought of his own sister. If this was how the Rito were perceived, then he would not stay. He would not be degraded like this nor would he let his people be degraded so.

Revali shouldered his bow and gave a short, stiff nod to each of the Hylians. "As it happens, I understand all too well."

He turned and prepared to take wing. Revali cared not for any more pleasantries. They were worth nothing to him. This castle and its people were worth nothing to him.

At least he thought, until that persistent voice spoke.

"Why do you ruin everything?" Princess Zelda demanded of her father. "Why does no one ever stay?"

Revali opened his beak, almost ready to apologise to the girl. He shook his head, smothering the sentimental thought, and with a lingering sense of regret, he flew from the yard.

* * *

_A kingdom of cards. Ten-thousand years honed. The Beast slumbers; up from the ground, Calamity come._

_The cards topple, poisoned, usurped. Diamond eyes seek on limbs segmented in six. Even the song dies._

_Around the Princess, her home revolves, gurgling with Malice. A sun bursts. A tower burns._

_The course of fate is a raging river, but even that can be changed. Thunderous power becomes ephemeral; an empire crumbles down to a single village. The power to oppose the Calamity lies dormant beneath the ground._

_A Princess, a Knight, a Beast. Colossi soaring uncaringly over the empty Hyrule, dragons biting their tails._

_Hope wakes. Corruption cowers. A golden sun burns a field of grass on Summer's End; the Calamity is sealed. Now, who continues the song?_

Sweating, fingers clawing at his bedroll, at his skin, at his face - the Sheikah seer shot up, and a single word fell from his mouth.

"Prophecy!"

* * *

There was a knock on the door, and before Rhoam could answer, the fortune teller let himself into the darkened study. Only a pair of candles lit the cramped room; they were all Rhoam had needed to read his diary, and the list Malachi had written there.

"Your Majesty, I know you summoned me, but I have some incredible news-"

"Sit," Rhoam commanded. "I will speak first."

The fortune teller sat, neatly folding into one of the chairs before Rhoam's desk. The King shut his diary. "Plainly, Malachi, I need your help. I have no control over my advisors. Perhaps an unchecked King is dangerous, but a powerless one is worse."

"Ah, perfect timing," Malachi exclaimed. "Because I've just had a dream. A prophecy!"

Rhoam nodded, parsing the news with only a small amount of scepticism. "What of?"

The fortune teller produced the tarot card of the burning tower - _Number Seventeen_ , Rhoam remembered. "Calamity Ganon. The signs of a resurrection are clear. We don't have long."

Rhoam took the card, a traced his thumb over the flames it depicted. Fear racked him. For a time he had hoped fate would pass over him, but no. There was no choice - and yet a decision needed to be made.

"You can help us prevent this?" he pressed.

Malachi shrugged. "Not as an outcast."

Rhoam tossed the card back to the Sheikah - a silent trade, _your tower for mine_. "Then how about as Spymaster?"

The decision was made, the trade complete. The fortune teller smiled.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Orni asked cautiously. Revali had brought her to Tanagar Canyon soon after his arrival back home and had told her about the strange power that had allowed him to save her from Dinraal.

"I've been practising. I think I almost have it."

Hoping he was correct, Revali soared down into the ravine and retrieved the Sparrow bows Orni had unwittingly left there. Once they were securely fastened to his belt, Revali crouched low and focused. Discipline, not tricks, he told himself, thinking of the little Princess. A rush of air burst from beneath him, and Revali caught it to soar out of the ravine, though he barely managed to keep his balance in the tornado of winds. Regardless, Orni clapped as he landed, happily taking back the white and gold apprentice bows.

"I still don't understand why you came home," she said as they walked back to the village. "An assistant to a Knight of Hyrule - it would still be an honour."

"Sometimes, Orni, very rarely, I do things for others," Revali said nonchalantly. "Now, before I forget, I need to send a letter."

"Oh? The Great Warrior Revali has a friend?" Orni teased.

"No, not exactly. Just an acquaintance. One that I believe could benefit from my tutelage."

"As an apprentice?"

Revali cawed with laughter. "No, Goddess no. Not her." he looked east towards the monolithic, unattainable Hyrule Castle. "I just want her to know - I won't be giving up either."

* * *

  _One hundred and eight years later_

* * *

Zelda plunged her hand into the gale Teba had left. It was all that was left of Revali now, she realised, and of their ill-fated friendship. Each year of her remaining youth, Zelda had gone to Hebra to see Revali and to train in a colder climate. The Rito tried in earnest to teach her archery, but they bickered more often than they made progress. When Revali was named Champion, she lost him for good. He felt slighted by Link, Zelda knew, just as she had, and his scorn evolved into an obsession. Everything that came before was forgotten. Zelda and her old Rito friend became akin to strangers. And when Zelda's power remained unawakened while his only grew, Revali's patience with her withered. _We were too alike,_ she thought _. Too proud. But I persevered, didn't I? Like I promised_?

It was not too late. She still had one friendship she could save. Teba could be anywhere, but his scouts would find him. And when they did, Zelda would not confront him alone.

"I knew he would do this," Saki said when she heard her husband had disappeared. "I knew that as soon as he had to face _you_ , he would chicken out."

The Rito Advisor was apprehensive to leave Hyrule Castle once more in control of 'that Zora woman', and Zelda was unsure of what to do. For the rest of the night, Zelda pondered the right course of action. It would be easy to replace her advisors with Hylians, perhaps reposition them within the court as Ambassadors. But it wouldn't be right.

Daybreak brought news of Teba's whereabouts - he was at (where else but) the Flight Range, his home away from home. Saki and Zelda flew there together and found him standing ready to meet them. When Zelda stepped forward to converse with her Battlemaster, Saki stopped her, her commandeering gaze conveying the message; he was mine before he was yours.

Teba huffed when he saw her. "I didn't go chasing you when you ran off."

"In truth, I wouldn't have come right away," Saki replied. "After so much time, after being the strongest I've ever seen you, you made just one mistake. You're better than to flee forever over that. But...my Queen commanded."

Teba cast a cutting gaze towards Zelda. "You use Saki against me."

"I use her to show the faith she has in you," Zelda countered. "The faith that  _I_ have in you _."_

"And you are determined to defend me?"

Zelda looked up at the Divine Beast that loomed above them; the dead-eyed Vah Medoh.

"I am Hyrule's Queen, not the Hylian Queen, I will not remove you for being Rito," Zelda levelled her tone, clasped her hands, and spoke with serious intent. "I will say, however, that your actions overstepped your bounds, jeopardised our finances and undermined my authority, and if you ever do that again, there will be no place for you at my Court."

Both Teba and Saki blinked at her in awe. Zelda went on, "However, and I don't do this often, for our friends sometimes we must concede. If you want to go, Teba, then go."

Teba raised his beak. "I'm not giving in that easy," he scoffed, and reaching to his belt, he unlatched a small package that he tossed it her way. Zelda caught it with ease and knew immediately by its shape that it was a diary.

The cover made her giggle; _The Diary of Revali - the Rito Legend_.

"That is what I came here for," Teba said. "Feel free to thank me now."

Zelda regarded the journal warmly, recognising the characteristic unembellished script. "You know Teba, you're more like him than you realise," Zelda smiled. "If perhaps a little less boastful."

"Did Revali feel this out of place?" Teba asked with a sigh.

Saki shook her head. "Do you know how we found you, Teba? Your _scouts_. Hyrule is enormous, and yet they found you in a single night. You drilled a discipline into them that has made them formidable. And you belong with them, with us," She extended her wing to her husband.

"In my father's time, the position was called Spymaster. But perhaps, in these days, it could take a less...shadowy name." Zelda said, offering; "How about, Scoutmaster Teba? It has a nice ring to it."

Still, Teba hesitated. "You have a replacement Battlemaster then?"

"I have the only replacement," Zelda smiled. "He's gone to Akkala, to fetch the newest knights."

Teba took a moment to ponder her proposal gazing out over the Flight Range, and at last, he grasped Saki's wing in his own, "Then we'll need a way to endear the people to my scouts. Being here has reminded me of something."

"Care to share?" Saki pressed.

"A legend of an old friend of the Queen's," Teba answered, turning to give Zelda an almost imperceptible wink. "You will see."

* * *

Five candidates were to be knighted - three Hylian, one Rito, and one Zora. Link apprehensively accepted the role of Battlemaster; his former mentor, Sir Otra of Old Lurelin, had held the position, and he was unsure if he could match that man's legacy. But battle was in Link's blood. The role would be nothing if not a return home.

The ceremony took place on the steps of Hyrule Castle, leading into the throne room. Zelda herself appointed Link as Battlemaster, and then Teba as Scoutmaster before Link knighted the five recruits. There was no ceremonial sword as yet - Link ended up using his plain traveller's sword - and so Zelda made a mental note to have one made. _Perhaps the jeweller, Dento of Zora's Domain, would be up to such a task?_

The entire duration of the ceremony, Zelda wondered what Teba had planned, but the Scoutmaster said little and revealed even less. Until, at the very end of the proceedings, he and two of his Rito scouts climbed to the top of the steps, along with the bard Kass. The warriors wore tri-shot bows at their back, Teba's being Revali's own Great Eagle bow, which Zelda had graciously lent him. Kass naturally carried his infamous accordion.

"This is a celebration!" Teba told the crowd of courtiers and retainers, and commoners who had come to watch. "And so the Rito scouts of Hyrule will celebrate in Rito tradition!"

He opened his wings, and a mighty gale to sprouted around him. In a grand display, with Kass providing jovial musical accompaniment, the Rito warriors leapt into the updraft one by one, launching themselves high into the air above the Castle. Teba shot straight skywards, while the other two arced outwards in a wide loop. In unison, the Rito aimed their bows high and released three of what looked like bomb arrows above the castle. But when the arrows burst, a shower of light rained down in all colours. Fireworks! Zelda recognised immediately. Twice, three times the Rito looped back to the gale, launching another round of fireworks above the crowd. When they were done, they landed with a theatrical bow. The thunderous applause told Zelda that Teba's plan to redeem himself had more than succeeded.  _I'm glad you stayed_ , Zelda told him.  _As are the crowd!_ Her new Scoutmaster laughed.  _As am I_ , he said. 

Afterwards, alone with Link in the Royal Apartments for the first time in a few weeks, Zelda could not stop thinking about the crowd's joy. They loved a spectacle. And how they had cheered for Link as well when they'd seen him fulfil his role as Hero and Battlemaster.

She poured for them a glass of wildwine each and sat down opposite him at the table in her chamber. He was reading over some designs, annotating and scribbling notes, still at his work with Robbie.

"I was thinking since today was such a success…" Zelda broached, unknowingly beginning to ramble. "And I understand if you don't want to talk about this now, and I completely understand if it's a ridiculous, rushed idea and-"

"Zelda…" Link interrupted gently. "You can just tell me."

Zelda swallowed hard. Where to begin? "We need to show our unity," she tried to explain. "And our stability. And this isn't just politics, I promise, but, well, I was thinking...the best way to do such a thing…"

Link showed no signs of understanding, as much as she hoped he would, and save her the embarassment. He nodded for her to continue; there was no avoiding it now.

"The best way to show our unity, Link," Zelda said, taking his hand, "would be if we married."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended notes for Chapter 3 and 4 are [here](https://rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com/post/170285681799/the-ballads-beginning-chapter-34-notes).


	5. Mipha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](%E2%80%9Crachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)

_Would that I had a partner. When I lost Zelda, I didn't just lose a companion; I lost someone to keep my soul in check._

King Rhoam's Diary, Entry #310

* * *

The Zora jeweller's workshop was unchanged. The same rows of tools and shining Zora weapons were proudly on display, the same faint smell of resin lingered in the air. Even Link's old bench was as he had left it. The workshop's owner, however, had changed almost imperceptibly. An extra wrinkle under an eye, another scar on his hands, a sterner frown on thinner lips.

 _You have your father's eyes, the eyes of a Knight. You search for weakness_ , the Sheikah Robbie had said, pointing two punctuating fingers towards Link's face.  _You must see as I see. Search for opportunity_. Robbie had neglected to tell Link that this meant staring at plans for hours on end to find inefficiencies, but the training had paid off. Link's eyes were keener than ever.

Master Dento examined the artefact that had been brought before him with his own keen eyes. It was a bracelet of Zoran silver, crafted with the hollowed shape of a heart. The clasp and hinge were broken, twisted by some great force, their intricacies rusted away. "The Princess'," Dento guessed correctly.

By chance, Link had found the bracelet within Vah Ruta two years prior. Now, returned to Zora's Domain to inspect the new Lanayru Tunnel, and with a week to spare he thought it would be a good time to repair it. Link could still his short but productive tutelage at this workshop; the splinters in his fingers and the blisters that formed and broke as he wrangled wood and wire into the prototype of the weapon he now carried at his hip.

Before Link could reach for it, the Master spoke. "I see your crossbow, Champion, you do not need to show me. Ancient springs, your new master is Sheikah."

"Ancient parts carry more load. Don't need oiling."

"And are only workable by a skilled craftsman," Dento unlatched the springs holding Mipha's bracelet together. It fell into two crescent pieces. He reached into a drawer, found a perfect replacement, and slotted it neatly into place. "Send Robbie my regards."

All of Link's discipline could not hold back his satisfied smile. He bowed his head in acknowledgement, and his crossbow remained at his hip.

When the work was done, Dento handed Link the repaired bracelet, and fetched a second item from his bench; a sword, long and thin, in a study leather scabbard.

"By order of the Battlemaster of Hyrule."

Link cleared his throat; he had given no order. " _I_  am her Battlemaster."

"Not the Rito?" Dento gave a slight  _hmph_. "Teba seemed well-informed. His letter stated clearly,  _none of that Zora nonsense_ ,  _she needs to handle the sword, not gaze at it_."

"...she?"

"This is for Zelda. To wield," Dento pushed the package into Link's arms.

Link looked down at the sword in shock. His mind immediately went to work. By its weight it was not a typical soldier's sword, but something much more delicate.  _A rapier?_  He handed the scabbard back. "Perhaps it's better if Zelda picks this up herself."

Dento narrowed his eyes, but accepted the sword nonetheless. "I see. Give Her Majesty my regards, when you see her."

 _Unlikely_. Link thought to tell Dento that he may as well seek out the Queen himself. He may as well send a Rito. Anyone else.

For he and Zelda had not spoken more than a dozen words since their arrival at Zora's Domain. It was childish and cowardice to hide from her, Link knew. But he had admittedly never been so afraid.

 _We should be married_. Four simple words. Link's response to Zelda's offer was not what either could have guessed; he was simply rendered mute, unable to even say no. He'd felt his psyche bleeding away, revealing the frightened, dumbstruck child underneath.  _I understand if you can't give me an answer now,_ Zelda had said in a tone she reserved for delicate political situations. Link shuddered at having it turned on him.

With a simple offer, Dento lifted Link from his pensive state; "Talk, if you wish. Your secrets will remain here."

Link searched for the words to adequately but discreetly explain his situation, taking a seat by Dento's bench. He arrived at, "The Queen has given me a proposal."

The Master snickered. "Marriage. I knew as soon as you hesitated."

"I just...I don't want to rush things."

"Of course. Haste is the curse of youth."

Link anxiously thumbed the leather wrapping around Zelda's sword, silently impressed by its quality. With an exasperated sigh that he felt he'd been holding for a fortnight, he said, "The last girl who wanted to marry me…"

"Died, and you fear an omen of reiteration." Dento was as precise as his tools. He eyed Link for affirmation.

"I just wish I could  _ask_  her. How did Mipha know she was ready?"

"The Princess was wise beyond her years. And hardly a child. But-"

"She was twenty-three."

 _The same age as I_   _am now._ Even if it wasn't an omen, it felt like one. Deny it though he might try, the Princess of the Zora still inhabited a place within Link that he kept locked away.

Dento hummed in solemn thought. His eyes were fixed on the bracelet. "A passionate young woman. But sometimes, we mistake foolhardiness for passion."

"Master Dento, how do I know the difference?"

The Zora jeweller met Link's open, needing gaze, and frowned. He took a weighty breath, as if to speak, but it was another that voice rang out through the workshop.

"Oh, Link! Look at this!" Her exuberance filled the cramped space, the air warmed in an instant by her presence. Zelda, waving a coiled parchment in hand.

Sir Inglis of Akkala was on her heels, brimming with the energy and pride of one newly fitted into his Royal Guard's armour, and behind him the shining King of the Zora, Sidon. Master Dento had stood from his chair to welcome both Queen and King into his workshop with a bow.

"Wonderful to see you, Master Dento," Zelda smiled, bowing in return. Turning her attention back to Link, she unrolled the parchment in his face. "Elder Kaneli says we can keep Revali's diary, and add it to our Royal Archives. That's three in our library now."

Inglis tapped a gloved finger to the parchment. "The fourth being Lady Mipha's, of course."

"And we have it right here in the Domain!" added Sidon with an adamantine grin.

"Teba has more good news," Zelda went on. "His scouts report that the Gerudo mages have settled in the Great Plateau. They've begun repairing the Temple of Time - is that my sword!?"

Dancing over to Dento's bench, Zelda swept the leather package into her hands. She unwrapped it carefully, revealing a blade so keen that it seemed it could slice the air, its golden guard decorated with a single embossing of the golden triangles of Hyrule on the pommel. With an adeptness that surprised him, Zelda passed the weapon between her hands, drawing lines in the air with its sharp point.

"My apologies that I didn't tell you, Link," she said as she buckled the scabbard to her belt. "We have no idea what could be in that tunnel. It would be foolish to inspect it unarmed."

"It's fine," Link said quietly, unable to conjure much more.

Almost imperceptible; a flicker in her smile, a quick, unbidden blink. The pain caused by Link's withdrawal from her. Zelda made to leave, beckoning the others to follow. "Well...let's go then."

Master Dento cast a final knowing gaze at Link as the others prepared to leave. "Were you waiting for an answer to your question, Battlemaster?"

Link hesitated, but shook his head. As he made his way through Zora's Domain, he thought on Dento's advice;  _Foolhardiness, or passion_? The group passed by the Zora Princess' statue in the central plaza, her likeness rising to meet the sun.  _What was it for us, Mipha?_ Link wondered.  _Do you know?_

* * *

_One Hundred and Six Years Earlier_

* * *

The stone was bulky as a Goron, but black as obsidian. It was embellished with a clay-like material that snaked along its body in swirls and waves, and was engraved in unreadable runes, by hands with skills long lost. With its conical, uneven shape, it rose out of its base like a stalagmite.  _Possibly organic_ , Purah wrote in her research journal.  _Avoid poking too much._

She had been poring over the stone's every mark and crevice, trying to deduce the it purpose. Her assistant Robbie did the same, the bug-eyed macroscopic goggles on his face whirring. On a nearby bench, Purah's younger sister Impa sat contently eating a banana - in strict breach of laboratory health and safety policy.

"Any breakthroughs Purah?" she asked, taking another bite of the banana.

"That's  _Doctor_   _Purah_  to you," Purah corrected, not looking up from her work. She had noticed something at the very pinnacle of the stone; there, the engravings changed, collating from unreadable marks into a familiar form.

"You're not a doctor  _yet_."

"I will be soon enough, so you better start practicing!"

"Soon enough! Soon enough!" Robbie cawed. "It was 'soon enough' over a year ago."

At last Purah raised her eyes from her work to meet Robbie's impertinent grin with a furious glare. "Let me remind you who is the  _researcher_  in this lab, and who is the  _assistant_!"

" _One_  of the researchers, hardly the Director!" Robbie countered. "In any case, we all  _know_  who rules the roost at Hyrule Castle now."

Impa threw away her empty banana peel. "Enough. Don't talk about  _him_. We will not fight between ourselves."

With a huff, Purah looked back to her work - and yes, there it was. Unpinning her own goggles from her hair, she slid them down over her eyes and saw; an inverted Sheikah eye, but missing the final teardrop. Was this...Yiga technology? No, impossible. They had nothing of their own. Then that could only mean…

"The stone is upside down," Purah announced, sliding the goggles from her face. "We need to hoist it to the ceiling." She waved over her sister. "Come, Impa. We need some muscle over here and I have the data to prove Robbie's is severely lacking."

It took the trio of Sheikah nearly an hour to tie and suspend the heavy stone to the ceiling, but when it was done, Purah's hunch was vindicated. The Sheikah Eye with a missing teardrop sat in its proper orientation at the bottom of the stone.

Robbie immediately set to work transcribing the runes from their new orientation, while Impa appraised the stone with a blank expression. "What do you suppose it does?"

"I have no clue," Purah answered excitedly.

Swanning into the lab to dampen their excitement came yet another Sheikah, his high-collared coat trailing. He moved so quietly that none of the trio had heard his arrival, until he crooned, "Impressive, I must admit."

Purah, Robbie, and Impa all spun on their heels, shoes skidding on the wooden floor. They pressed in close, a pack of white-haired wolves moving to protect their territory. Impa's hand shot down for the dagger at her belt. The gesture was not unnoticed, the Sheikah man's languid gaze flicking downwards, and then back again.

"Confidential research?" he asked innocently.

"To you, Malachi," Purah snarled.

"That's  _Spymaster_  Malachi to you," Malachi sauntered around the lab as the trio glared at him, prodding carelessly at the various instruments and relics. "Well, I'll need a report for the King, regardless."

"The King can come here himself," Impa said.

"Please, Lady Impa, you know that isn't possible," Malachi motioned to the stone behind them. "One of the discoveries from the excavations?"

Purah and Robbie exchanged a tense look; Malachi was right, the king had no time to inspect every lab himself. Where Purah refused to speak out of pride, Robbie gave the report out of obligation.

"We have deduced that this relic was suspended as you see now, though it remains non-operational," he explained. He pointed to a large, cabinet sized instrument to Malachi's left. "And I have been keeping an eye on any signs of geomechanical activity. It's a delicate operation."

The Spymaster cast a curious glance down at the instrument next to him; within the cabinet was a weight suspended on a needle, holding, for the time being, perfectly still.

Robbie continued the report; "Sites in Hateno and Akkala are also measuring for any ground movements. If anything moves below the ground, we will be able to locate approximately where."

Nodding, the Spymaster took in the report, and gave the trio an amiable smile. Just as he was turning to leave, he pointed casually down at the heavy needle; "Looks like something's moving."

The Sheikah researchers stared at him in disbelief, and then in unison, they raced over to the instrument.

"Note the time!"

"Just after noon! What direction?"

Robbie stared at the instrument, eyes darting back and forth as he followed the needle. Finally, he concluded, "East. Lanayru."

Purah bit her lip, and turned to the amused looking Malachi. "Spymaster, we need you to inform the king!"

"Of?"

"An earthquake. Possibly near Zora's Domain."

* * *

The Knight-to-be wound his hands in a tight circle, unravelling his arm wraps, before laying them down on the stony shore with the rest of his gear. He had already removed his boots, and his Hylian tunic, though he still wore his undershirt and pants. Those would be next.

 _Almost done. Don't wait,_ he signed, flicking his hands towards the lake.

His companion was entranced. Mipha, Princess of the Zora, knelt beside him, holding her shaking palms against her lap to steady them. "I'm happy to wait," she said.

The Knight-to-be smiled, an enticingly casual parting of his lips.  _If you say so_.

Before them, the waters of the Mikau Lake were dazzling. They were clearer than quartz, and as cool as they were crisp. Sitting under the shadow of Ploymus Mountain and the arching cliff face of Shatterback Point, the lake was shadowed from the harshness of the noon sun. It was a perfect retreat. A head-swimmingly, heart-racingly perfect retreat. But! One that Mipha shouldn't fret about, oh,  _no_.

Her companion looked her way, and raised his brows.

Mipha startled. "Am I staring?" She shifted away from him, urgently eyeing the stones on the shore. "I'm sorry, Link."

At first, Link said nothing, and Mipha felt a great discordance stir within her. She wanted to disappear, embarrassed to have even come here. But she also wanted to all but  _throw_  herself at Link to beg him tell her what was wrong.

Because  _something_  was wrong. Mipha had known Link for twelve precious years. He was like all Hylians - brash, running headlong at any problem or otherwise ignoring it entirely - but he was so very  _unlike_  many of them. Not only in his physical prowess. Link carried a  _weight_  to his soul beyond simple comprehension. And now, something troubled it.

But Mipha feared it was not her place to ask. Even if she signed the words, as her mother had taught her and as she had later taught Link; even in the private space that the hollows of their hands formed. It just...wasn't right. Her thoughts turned to self-pity.  _Oh, what a gulf this is_.

With a single gesture, Link bridged that gulf in an instant - he reached out, and wrapped a hand around hers. When he smiled and when he spoke, things felt like they had in that summer just one year ago.

"I'm ready when you are," he said gently.

They walked together into the shallows. The waters were like silk, their embrace an instant comfort. Emboldened, Mipha let go of Link's hand, and turned to face the open water.

"Catch me," she challenged, and dived deep into the waters.

As she swam, Mipha could not excise Link's smiling face from her mind. That  _look_ , it was the same look.

It had happened at this very lake. They'd both been nervous, but unable to stop themselves, intoxicated, reckless, something about the dusk lying before them license to let go. It was over so fast, in such a frenzy that Mipha could scarcely remember what it  _felt_  like, only that she'd never feel so rich so long as she lived. Link had returned home, ready to begin an important part of his training, and she had barely heard from him in the year since.

But he was here now. Defying physiology, Link caught her underneath the water. Face bright red and eyes bulging from the exertion, sidled in next to her. Unsettled, Mipha drew them both to the surface, and Link emerged with a gasp.

"Are you okay? You didn't need to push yourself that hard."

"I wanted to," Link shrugged under the water's surface. And then, sourly, " _Needed_  to."

Mipha opened her mouth to argue, but the thought died. Maybe it was in the way the waters moved, or maybe it was her own eyes doubting, but he looked so  _withdrawn._ Like there was a curtain between his eyes and his consciousness, hiding his soul from view.

Sullen, Mipha moved back to the shore, evading his outstretched arms that tried to pull her back in. "Tell me what the matter is. I want to  _help_  you, Link."

Link glared at her for a torturously long moment, face held in restraint. And then he did what he always did when speaking became too hard.

 _It isn't important_ , he signed.  _Knight stuff._

Knight stuff. Code for none of your business. Once more the will to argue melted away. Mipha so rarely saw Link - why mar his visit with petty nagging? She acquiesced with a sign;  _if you say so._

The argument had passed. Joining Mipha on the banks, Link turned to look down the cascades towards Zora's Domain.  _We should go,_ he signed.  _Father is waiting for me._

 _We've only been here half an hour!_  Mipha wanted to argue. Sir Micah, a distinguished Knight of Hyrule, never seemed to consider the visits to the Domain a holiday, and somehow, he'd grown stricter over the past few years. Ever since his wife…

 _Is this why?_ Mipha's mind latched onto the idea.  _Did something change when Lady Rowan died?_

The trip back home was easy; Mipha swam down the waterfalls while Link flew his Rito-made paraglider overhead. It was a treasured gift, from his father, upon being accepted into the Hylian Academy of Knights. Mipha herself could not fathom ever daring to use it; let the Rito to the sky, and the Zora to the waters - though Link seemed to have mastered both.

"I want to go find my brother," Mipha said when they arrived at Zora's Domain. "He was so sad that he couldn't join us."

Princess and Knight-to-be walked silently through the inner Royal Apartments of the Domain, navigating the watery halls with ease granted by a lifetime spent within them. Before they turned the last corner, however, Link caught Mipha by the arm, holding her back. He placed an open palm to his ear, and drew together this fingers and thumb. A well-known sign;  _Listen._

Mipha listened. She crouched low, placing a hand on the tiles at her feet. Footsteps. In the hallway beyond. Two pairs. The voices became clear, as if they were right beside her. Recognisable voices too; members of her father's court.

"The King is adamant. The Princess will be his heir."

"This will not do. What will happen to the Zora line? You know the rumours."

"There is no guarantee that anything will materialise."

"It has happened once before, in Zora legend."

"Princess Ruto never married that Hylian of hers."

"Even so. The King may not relent...but in time, his son could be convinced."

Mipha opened her eyes, distraught. Whoever these voices belonged to meant to manipulate her brother. Because of...because of her and Link!

 _I'm going_ , Mipha signed up to Link, who was pressed against the wall, deep in his own focused listening.

 _Where?_ He signed back. Pausing, both to consider if she should tell him, and to remember the right sign, Mipha placed a webbed hand to her head, making the shape of a crown.

 _The King_.

* * *

King Rhoam of Hyrule could not imagine a greater threat to his sovereignty than the sight that was Zora's Domain.

The aquatic race called their home a living sculpture, one whose perfected marble arches and cascading tiers seemed to emerge from the cliffs. It was a far cry from Hyrule Castle, that was sure. Rhoam's own domain, with its jutting, jagged towers and sprawling mass, seemed forced on the landscape by comparison.

The King and his entourage had come to Zora's Domain inspect the ongoing excavations that he'd ordered. The prophecy given by the Spymaster Malachi spoke of a great power hidden beneath the ground, and counsel from Elder Soklee had pointed to a quartet of ancient constructs depicted on Sheikah tapestries.  _Divine Beasts_ , she had called them, or something similarly garish. Sheikah researchers employed by the Crown posited that each might be associated with one of the four races of Hyrule - though they warned that the constructs could be buried anywhere, if they even existed at all.

But they did exist. Rhoam could feel it. He'd never been a spiritual man, and thought little of the gods - his wife's death had ensured that - but he heard the gods' call now. He heard their warning; Malachi's warning.  _Something is coming for Hyrule._

What an unlikely boon that strange Sheikah had been. Malachi's reputation preceded him - he was the outcast, the dangerous mageling who consorted with the Yiga. But those that spoke out against him found their lives inexplicably  _ruined_. The Royal Treasurer refused to work with Malachi, and not a week later, it surfaced (with no traceable link to Malachi of course) that he had been embezzling royal coin for years. Even Chief Advisor Voswann, Malachi's greatest opponent, ceased his campaign against him then. When Malachi had proposed excavations all throughout Hyrule, none challenged him.

 _The Sheikah clan and the Royal Family are the strongest alliance known to Hyrule,_  Malachi had proclaimed. Indeed, Rhoam had come to Zora's on the advice of yet more Sheikah. The researcher Purah had uncovered a link between the ancient relics and Sheikah lore, while her assistant Robbie had helped detect tremors near Zora's Domain. The third Sheikah, his daughter's attendant Impa, had promised to watch over the Princess while he went to Lanayru investigated the possible cause, and now, here he was.

Rhoam's only regret was that, curiously, Battlemaster Otra of Old Lurelin refused to be involved with any of the work surrounding the prophecy. He provided men where needed, and did not stand in the way, but simply, uncompromisingly, refused to take part.

Bringing his own entourage of advisors and retainers, King Dorephan met Rhoam at the gates of the Domain. He was nearly twice as the size of Hylian King, the excess of his jewels and braided rope putting Rhoam's own regalia to shame. Even so, the Zora King bowed, as did his entire retinue.

"We are honoured by your presence in our Domain, Your Majesty," King Dorephan said.

"And I am honoured by your hospitality," Rhoam echoed.

Formalities complete, the Zora and Hylian entourages moved into the Domain. As they walked, Dorephan cast his gaze eastwards, towards the excavation site near the Eastern Reservoir.

"I admit that I remain sceptical of the excavations, Hyrule King, but I trust no harm will come to the Domain. I hear you have already produced results?"

Rhoam was in the middle of explaining the discoveries, when a petite Zora youth came running up to meet them. By the elfin girl's jewellery and regal adornments, Rhoam guessed she could only be the Princess of the Zora. She hurriedly bowed to Rhoam, and turned to her father, hands becoming a flurry of gestures and movements that Rhoam could not comprehend. The King returned some gestures, and gave his daughter a reassuring nod.

With a single, commanding outstretched arm, Dorephan halted to entire entourage of both Zora and Hylian, turning towards a pair of his lieutenants. "Seggrin, Tulazz, return to the Domain at once. Check on my son, and ensure he is safe."

A pair of armoured Zora peeled off from the party, lopping away towards the central plaza without so much more than an affirmative grunt. The Princess followed, giving her apologies and well-wishes, and with that, she was gone.

Awestruck, but knowing full well whatever drama had just passed by him was none of his business, Rhoam asked, "Those gestures. Was that-?"

"Sign language," the Zora King seemed to sigh. "My wife had difficulty hearing. She learnt the language as a child, and passed it onto myself and our children."

"Well, she taught you well."

"It was her duty. I'm sure you understand, as would your own daughter."

It was Rhoam's turn to sigh. "All too well. What I wouldn't do to give Zelda a normal life."

His concern rang hollow within him, inhabiting his conscience with the whispered words:  _but what_ have _you done_? As the entourage neared the central plaza of Zora's Domain, Rhoam's clarity was marred by the sudden awareness that no Zora  _Queen_  had come to meet the Hylians.

"If I may, your wife-?"

"No longer with us. A fever," Dorephan said curtly, and all to late Rhoam recalled hearing the news but a few years ago. He thought on his own late wife, and the constant, though now dulled pain with which he missed her.

"My sympathies. This world is... unkind to Queens."

The Zora King frowned. "And Princesses, too," he said.

* * *

The little Prince ran on knobbly legs to meet his sister as she stepped into his chamber, wailing, "Mii-ya! Mii-ya!"

Mipha knelt to catch him in her arms. "How are you, sweet Sidon?"

Eyes as wide and bright as a full moon, the Prince shook his head to soothe him, Mipha drew him in close, running a hand over his long headfin.

Ever since Mipha had warned her father of what she had overheard, Prince Sidon had been confined to his chambers. Despite the sorrow it caused her baby brother, Mipha was glad for it; she could not bear for anything to happen to him. And while Mipha had always thought that perhaps the older generation of Zora would not welcome her as heir, seeing (or rather hearing) it hurt her deeply. What would it be like, when she inevitably became Queen?

Sidon untangled himself from her embrace, and pointed towards his chamber door. Behind it were two of her father's most trusted guards. And beyond them, the entire force of Zora warriors on alert that the Prince might be in danger.

"You'll be free soon," Mipha assured her brother. "And then we can go swimming together, okay?"

The Prince nodded with a sniffle. He brought his hands to his chest, and then to hers.  _I love you_. Mipha had taught him to say that. She returned the gesture, and giving him a kiss on his forehead as a goodbye, returned to the hallways of the Domain.

The two guards stationed by Sidon's room stood up straighter when Mipha appeared, both giving her a stiff salute.

Link was waiting for her as well, huddled against the far wall, arms crossed, face drawn. When he saw her, he gave a quick wave with two fingers, as casual as could be. But when Mipha placed a gentle hand on his arm, he shuddered.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

Link nodded, though the lie was clear.

"Kind of you to visit him," he said.

"It's my fault he's in there. I only wanted to protect him but…" Fearing that the guards might overhear her next words, she discreetly signed to Link,  _I made everything worse._

King Dorephan had given his Court a fiery talking to about the plot to manipulate Sidon, resulting in chaos as the entire Advisory refused to work together, weary of traitors. Even the Hylians noticed the tension, keeping to their excavation site.

Slipping an arm around the small of her back, Link lead them both into the Central Plaza of Zora's Domain. As soon as they stepped into the sunlight together, they were beset by stares ranging from curious to disapproving to incensed - but by Link's expression, he was either ignorant, or calmly defiant. In an instant, Mipha's troubles were forgotten.

They headed for J'Abu Ridge, on the southeast border of the Eastern Reservoir; the site of the excavation. The sight that confronted them there was both a wonder and a ruin, the land of Lanayru converted into a scavenger hunt. At the very top of the ridge was none other than the Hyrule King himself. He stood with his hands at his hips, surveying the excavation in calculating silence.

"Good day to you, Your Majesty," Mipha greeted him. Beside her, Link had gone to his knees. The King laughed, beckoning Link to rise with what Mipha realised was a bandaged hand.

"Sir Micah tells me you are on holiday, no need for such formality," the King teased, though his joviality was soon softened. "I'm surprised he still comes here, after..." His voice trailed off, a haunted expression crossing his face.

Link said nothing, thought his lips twitched at the mention of his father. Was it a scowl or a smirk? Mipha did not know. With all the tact befitting a Princess, she changed the subject.

"What do you mean to find here in this excavation, Your Majesty?"

The King sounded faintly cynical. "We'll know when we find it, of that I'm certain," he raised his bandaged hand with a chuckle. "So certain that I even tried to help them myself. Ended up cutting my hand on my pick."

"Oh, I can fix that!" Mipha grinned, extended two open palms towards the King.

The King lit up. "You're the healer?"

"I'm  _a_  healer, Your Majesty…" Mipha tilted her head to the side, a fin resting against her face. The King's sudden exuberance was bemusing.

"Ah! We've been looking for you!"

"I'm sorry?"

At once the King was snapped from his trance. "I mean, for your  _kind_ ," he said. He coughed, and cleared his throat, "You see, our Chief Apothecary is nearing retirement."

Mipha and Link exchanged a curious glance. "Well... I have my duties here," Mipha said politely. "And your people might not like a mage at court."

The King was unaffected. "We already have one," he said. "And the technology we have in Hyrule now is nothing short of magic. Some of my researchers pinpointed the tremors that hit to this very excavation site. Still-"

Still  _what_ , Mipha would never know. As if summoned by Rhoam's words themselves, the ground began to shudder and shake, the loose dirt shifting around their feet.

And then, a gut-wrenching  _jolt_.

Mipha flew forward, before being yanked backwards. Link's hand on her shoulder held her steady; he'd moved to fast that it took Mipha a few seconds to process what he had done. The King on the other hand had managed to keep his footing, and immediately began bellowing down to the excavation site workers to take cover. A second jolt rocketed them backwards, auxiliary shudders rumbling beneath the earth-shattering lurch.

The third jolt was followed by an enormous  _crack_. It was not the ordinary splintering of wood, or the split-second snap of a whip; this sound had gravitas, rising from the ground and into Mipha's bones.

Only one thing could shatter that loudly and pervasively; Rutala Dam. Without another word, she turned and sprinted from the ridge. Link followed her, leaping over outcrops and climbing steep hills until together they reached the dam.

It was a terrible, beautiful sight. The earthquake had shattered part of the stone, cutting a large chunk of the dam wall out from the top left corner. A stream of water raced over the broken edge, white with fury and churn.

Running out onto the dam wall platform, Mipha was shocked to find no guards patrolled it. Had something happened to them? A voice from behind them gave the answer; an old Zora taking refuge among the hills on the far side of the reservoir.

"The dam operators tried to open the spillway, but it jammed!" he called down to them. "Typical! Finn went down to see what happened to it, and when he didn't come back, Lorra dived in after him!"

Mipha gasped. The guards!

Link shouted pointing to the waters. "In there!?"

"Where else!?" shot back the old Zora.

Mipha stared at the waters of the reservoir. She felt her chest burning, a compassionate  _need_  to help her people filling her. She had felt it when she'd warned her father of the plan to manipulate Sidon, when she healed, or when she longed to unravel the mind of her Hylian companion.

Another tremor sent ripples across the voluminous waters of the reservoir. Mipha didn't know very much about its engineering, but she knew that unless the spillway was opened, the dam wall could rupture.

She whispered a prayer to the Goddess.  _My compassion plunged Zora's Domain into chaos; let my compassion save it._

Before Link could protest, Mipha dove cleanly into the waters of the Eastern Reservoir.

* * *

Clear blue waters become deep sapphire, and then deeper still, the colour draining like a waning dusk until there was no colour to speak of. Only blackness, and silence, a brutal, oppressive  _force_ from all directions.

The depths of the Eastern Reservoir, held back only by the Rutala Dam.  _She must have been an incredible Zora, whoever Rutala was_. Mipha kept a hand on the wall of the dam while she dived farther and farther below the surface.

To the untrained eye, the spillway gate of Rutala Dam was expertly hidden amongst the stone. It was about halfway down the gargantuan wall, and could be opened drain the waters of the dam. Huge submerged chains operated the gate, operated by pulleys requiring a small team of Zora to move. Their hub was situated on the other side of the dam wall, tucked into the valley. She imagined them now, trying in vain to pull the gate open.  _They are relying on me_ , Mipha thought as she felt herself struggle against the weight of the water.  _I cannot fail._

She found the Zora warrior, Finn, unconscious by one of the chains, an arm entangled in something she could not see. His fellow guard, Lorra, was shaking him violently in vain attempt to free him. When she saw Mipha she cried out, a flurry of bubbles bursting around her face.

Mipha raised a hand, and held still. She focused on feeling calm, on feeling warm; and the light shone in her palm.  _Mipha's Grace,_ her father had once jokingly called it, a healing power she'd had since she was a child. The light was incidental, but necessary in the near lightless water. Now with a clearer view of Finn's caught arm, Mipha saw something she didn't understand. There was a four-pronged claw, snapped shut around Finn's wrist, whose trapped hand was still wrapped around his spear. It was attached to what seemed to be a segmented appendage of a metal. Mipha traced her eyes long the length of the limb to an enormous stone statue, somewhat like a dome, with swirls and carvings along its body. The construct was jammed between the spill chains, preventing them from moving.

Mipha reached for Finn's spear. She noted that Lorra carried none; perhaps it had been lost as she's tried to free him.

The metal of the limb looked like the weakest point. One, two, three: Mipha sluggishly drove her spear into the metal. Four, five, six: she felt herself struggling, the water too strong, her body not strong enough. Understanding what Mipha was trying to do, Lorra grabbed the spear to add her strength to the task.

One two three, four five six. The metal dented.

One two three, four five six. The metal bent.

One - two - three; the metal caved, the limb slicing clean and free. The closed claw snapped opened, and Finn was free. With a muffled cry of relief, Lorra pulled him into her arms. Mipha watched the pair begin to resurface, taking another look at the construct that had been tangled in the chains. It was entirely alien to her; and yet it was in  _her_ Domain.  _What strange omen is this?_  She felt her chest constrict with fear, the sense of something looming all around her suddenly overpowering.

A booming groan above her, and the sudden movement of the chains beside her told Mipha that the spillway gate would soon open. She soared up through the waters, escaping onto the dam wall platform just as the gate opened, and the waters of the dam began to drain.

"Princess Mipha!" Lorra cried, weeping over the still unconscious Finn. "He won't wake up, I don't know what to do, I… I…"

Mipha knelt by Finn, and held her hand over him, letting her power flow. "Do not fear," she smiled, though her hands were shaking. "I will heal him."

* * *

Link and Rhoam returned to Zora's Domain together to find it in riot. If the Domain could be described as a  _living_ sculpture, then now it was very much a  _panicked_  one. A blur of oceanic colours flashed past as Zora darted across the Central Plaza, looking for relatives, or prized possessions, fear in their eyes and in their steps as they anticipated another quake.

"I'm beginning to think I should just stay in Hyrule Castle." Rhoam grumbled. "Everywhere I go seems cursed."

Still, it seemed that the Domain was undamaged. Not even nature itself could usurp the Zora from their home, he noted. A little breathless, Rhoam considered approaching King Dorephan to apologise, and withdraw the entire excavation. Was he on the wrong path? Was the destruction coming for Hyrule...Rhoam himself?

The Knight-in-training at his side had said nothing. His face was solid as marble as he scanned the crowd. The boy's willpower and focus was its own legend in Hyrule now, but Rhoam had seen it up close during their return to Zora's Domain. He had personally sought Rhoam out at the excavation side to escort him back to safety, never once tiring during the arduous journey along the cliffs. Once, when the loosened ground had sloughed away under Rhoam's feet, Link had prevented him from falling. Never once had he faltered.

And yet, now, as he watched the crowd, the boy seemed uneased.

"What is it, Master Link?" Rhoam asked. The boy turned at once, bowing his head upon being spoken to.

After a pause, he said, "M-My father, I don't see him."

"Go, Link," Rhoam told him, immediately. "Find your father. I'll be fine here."

"Only if Your Majesty is safe."

" _Go_."

Permission granted, Link sped away in search of Sir Micah.  _He is devoted to that man_ , Rhoam thought glumly, for a moment wondering what it would be like to have a son.  _Would it be easier?_

Emerging out of the chaos came King Dorephan, who Rhoam noted was thankfully unharmed. He marched with an urgency and boisterous that Rhoam had never seen in the normally laconic king, and with every step he took the ground seemed to shake once more.

"Rhoam!" he barked. "Your excavations must cease! It is too dangerous! Rutala Dam nearly ruptured, though miraculously it appears secure."

"I believe it is dangerous to do nothing," Rhoam argued. It was too late to back down now. He had displaced to many people, committed too much of his being to finding the Divine Beasts to stop now. "A resurrection of Calamity Ganon-"

"A fairy-tale! Just like the Divine Beasts," Dorephan shook with anger, and a power that he would have otherwise kept within him. "I was willing to let you search for relics, but your talk of calamity. Folly! And now...Hyrule King, I cannot put my people in danger!"

"If there is even a chance that Calamity Ganon is more than a simple legend, then it is my duty as King to oppose him!" Rhoam roared. "Your daughter even, the Healer, she could have a part to play-"

The way Dorephan's face contorted told Rhoam that had been a mistake. "My Daughter!?" The Zora King nearly shrieked. "Mipha will have nothing to do with this! With any of this!" He turned to one of his guards, who bolted upright at being accosted. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

"I am here, Father!"

Rhoam, Dorephan and the entirety of Dorephan's guard turned towards the entrance of the plaza to see - Princess Mipha, her finery a little askew and some of her jewels missing, lending her shoulder to a forest-green warrior Zora. If she struggled under his weight, she did not show it. On the man's other side was another Zora warrior, a woman, and by the expression on her face it was clear the injured warrior was dear to her.

"The dam is secure, for now," Mipha announced to all that would listen. "I pulled this brave man from the waters; he was trying to unjam the spillway chains."

Mipha's appearance did little to quell Dorephan's rage. "You dove into the reservoir!?"

"To save him. And all of us. But that isn't important," Mipha helped the man sit down by the fountain in the centre of the plaza, and stood before the Zora King. "Father,  _something_  was down there. A construct, of some kind. But worse than that, I felt some a dark presence, ancient, and powerful. As much as I regret it, I fear that King Rhoam may be telling the truth!"

Dorephan whole countenance changed at his daughter's words. He slumped, sighed, and said, "I'm sorry, little one, but...as grateful as I am for your bravery…"

The Princess accepted the words without argument, turning to give Rhoam her own apologetic look.

 _Foolish King,_ Rhoam chided himself.  _Digging up your Kingdom on the hunch of a traitor._

All seemed lost - the excavations would be cancelled, and likely Rhoam's control over his advisors would slip - until, swooping down into the plaza, a Rito courier arrived to meet them. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" he said breathlessly upon seeing Rhoam.

"What is it?" Dorephan snapped, disliking being interrupted. Rhoam could hardly believe the courier's next words. It was the gods' next call; their next message.

"They found it, Your Majesty," the courier breathed. "In Gerudo Desert. Your researchers have uncovered a Divine Beast."

* * *

The door to Prince Sidon's room clicked open, and there he was. Ready and waiting, his head fin coiled around his feet, too big for his little body. Mipha took her brother by the hand and lead him past the guards stationed at his door, past the pair of Advisors waiting impatiently for the Prince. Her brother was finally free, just as things at Zora's Domain were returning to normalcy.

The Hylians and their King had departed for Gerudo Desert as soon as the news of the discovery of a Divine Beast had reached them. A certain awe had filled King Dorephan when the relic had been described to him; some powerful, mechanical creature built by people to protect the Kingdom, with only the finest warriors at their helm. The thought that one might belong to the Zora spurred in him that unique, immovable Zora pride. The excavations could continue.

The Advisors had followed her and Sidon into the Plaza. Mipha could feel the heat of their glares on her back. When at she reached the Plaza's fountain, she turned to face them.

Her voice was soft, naive even. The perfect play of innocence. "My brother would make a fine king, don't you think?"

The two Advisors eyed each other nervously. "Of course, Your Highness," they said in unison.

"If anything were to happen to me, it would be his duty. So, I would like to tutor him. Who better than his sister?"

"Surely a  _royal tutor_ -" one of the advisors offered.

"Thank you, but there is no need," Mipha smiled, letting a thrilling hint of acidity slip into her tone. "The plot to manipulate him ends with me," And with that, she bid the pair a good day.

Link was waiting for them with his father, Sir Micah, at the other side of the plaza. They seemed to be sharing some tense conversation. When Link saw her, he left his father mid-sentence.

"To Lake Mikau?" Mipha smiled down at her brother. "This is Link's last day here, after all."

Little Sidon clapped in excitement. He had never been allowed there before. Link on the other hand barely smiled. He looked over his shoulder at his scowling father.

Letting Sidon's hand fall, Mipha signed;  _Please, tell me your troubles_

Link wrapped his hands around hers to steady them, hushing her. With a frown, he kissed her forehead, and said, "Maybe soon."

* * *

In the depth of the night, the Sheikah Laboratories are usually empty, save perhaps one or two researchers fastidious in their work, or close to a breakthrough.

In this night, two weeks since King Rhoam had departed Hyrule Castle for Lanayru, his daughter sat in the only Laboratory still occupied at this hour. The researchers had placed her in a high stool as though she were a rare specimen, the laboratory's owner scowling at the girl's very presence. "This is a terrible idea," Purah said. To her right, her assistant Robbie threw up his hands,

"I said the very same thing, and neither of you listened."

On Purah's left, her younger sister puffed out her chest, and went to the bewildered looking Princess' side.

"Are you Sheikah or not?" she admonished them. "It is our  _duty_  to help the Royal Family, even if that means disobeying some of its members."

"By which you mean the  _King_ ," Robbie said through gritted teeth. "How did you get here?"

Impa shrugged. "The secret tunnels," she said, as though such a method was a common as horseback.

The mazelike underground of Hyrule Castle was well known to the Sheikah. The researchers were the only ones entrusted with its existence. One such secret passageway lead all the way from the Royal Apartments to the Sheikah laboratories themselves, dug deep into the earth - below the Hylia River even. It was through here that Impa must have brought the Princess, Purah surmised.

Pushed her spectacles up on her nose, she leaned in close to the wide-eyed Zelda, whose face was frozen in wonder and shock. "Do you wish to learn?" Purah demanded.

The Princess nodded. "I do, I mean it."

"It will not be easy. Many hours of study, often in secret."

"It's what I want!" the Princess insisted. "I'm tired of praying!"

"Good. You start today." Purah handed her a notebook, and a quill. "First thing's first; lab hierarchy. You may be Princess, but this is  _my_  lab. What's the golden rule Robbie?"

"Purah is the boss."

"You got all that?"

The Princess hurriedly began to write.

* * *

_One Hundred and Six Years Later_

* * *

The King of the Zora cupped his jewelled hands to his mouth and called out into the yawning length of the tunnel - " _Hellooooo!"_

His words were reflected back, whispering off the stone walls;  _Helloo...helloo…_

When Sidon smiled, it was infectious. The spirits of the entire tunnel investigation party were lifted. Giggles followed the echoes, as Sir Inglis and Zelda added their laughter to Sidon's. Even Link, who had been lost in his own thoughts and memories, felt momentarily contented.

The trek from Zora's Domain to the Lanayru Tunnel had taken well over an hour. Through a light rain they marched all the way to the Zodobon Highlands, under the shadow of Ruta's Plateau and the sleeping Divine Beast perched there, where a makeshift rope bridge had been constructed across the Rutala River to the tunnel entrance.

The way into the tunnel had been via a kind of push cart, propelled by a pumped see-sawing mechanism that Link and Robbie had designed, rather than the frankly reckless method of explosives that the Gorons used. Zelda herself had undertaken the initial surveys for the cart track, while Link's Knights-to-be were on hand to help the Zora with its construction.  _An opportunity_ ; one of Robbie's favourite phrases.

As the party moved farther into the runnel, Link couldn't help but feel a simmer of pride at seeing the opportunity realised.

Though not without obstacle. In the past few months, Robbie had begun to note small tremors within Hyrule, using an old Sheikah seismometer to detect the movements. Sure enough, the tremors were pinpointed to the Lanayru Tunnel.

"Earthquakes?" Link had asked, recalling faintly a similar situation from his youth.

"Just like those in Lanayru, over one hundred years ago now," Robbie had said, casually unleashing upon Link a torrent of memories. "Do you remember?"

Scraps of info had come back like stars appearing on a black sky. What Link had was an outline; his last summer in Zora's Domain, his father tense and overbearing, and the earthquake that almost destroyed the Eastern Reservoir,if not for Mipha.  _How did she save it?_ Link could not recall.

The thought gave him an all too familiar sense of distressing weightlessness, carried whichever way the flow of time would take him. Even now, after three years awake, it followed him everywhere.

Still, Link remembered at least those final days in Zora's Domain, before his duties as a Knight consumed him, and all the passions he felt left him - including what he felt for Mipha.

 _I should have told you about it_ , Link thought.  _The pain that I was in._ It foolish thing to do. Cruel, even, to let passions fade out of fear.

"I think we're almost there!" Sidon announced as the pushcart sped along.

Link unclipped the Sheikah Slate from his belt, and confirmed Sidon's assessment with the map. They were at the very centre of the tunnel now, some way from where the tunnel branched towards the East Gate of Lanayru Road. It was there that he and the Champions had witnessed the resurrection of Calamity Ganon. Link wondered if it was an omen. The party disembarked, and began their survey.

It occurred to Link then just how dangerous it was to have the two monarchs of Hyrule in a single, dangerous place. But Sidon was intent on being an active rather than passive king, and danger had ceased to be an obstacle for Zelda. Link paused, realising simply that he loved that about her. He wanted to stop, tell her, but he hesitated, and the feeling vanished. Zelda was busy anyway, briefing Sir Inglis on what they were looking for.

Along its length, the tunnel widened and narrowed with the natural curves of the stone. Initially, they found no signs of damage, but as they worked, Link felt something beneath his feet. A kind of  _rumbling_ , but constant, unchanging.

"Listen," he said to the others, bringing a hand to his ear and clasping his fingers and thumb together.

Sidon's eyes widened in shock. "Did you just say 'listen'?"

Link blinked at him. "Yes?"

"You just  _signed_ ," Sidon repeated the gesture over, clapping his fingers to his thumb. "This means  _listen_."

"A funny coincidence," Link murmured. "I don't know si-"

There it was. Another familiar feeling. Like surfacing from beneath the waters, or letting out a held sigh.

"I know sign," he whispered, the gestures and meanings filling his mind, as did the one who had taught them to him.  _Mipha_.

Snapping their attention back to the matter at hand, Inglis called out. "Hey! Guys! Uh...I think I've found something?!"

He lit a torch and held it up to a hollow in the tunnel wall. The light danced against the patterned walls, which seemed now to be  _moving_. The shapes grew and shrunk, like something breathing. No, that's exactly what it was. A constant, rumbling,  _breathing._

Link's hand went to his sword. "Inglis…" he cautioned.

"I see it," Inglis' gripped his own weapon as the mass of scaly stone shifted. A huge, glowing orange eye came into view, along with a cacophony of other smaller, but equally menacing, orange-yellow eyes.

Behind him, Link heard a click from the Sheikah Slate camera, and after a pause, Zelda read aloud foreboding name given by the Compendium;

" _King Dodongo_."

At once, the thousand eyes leapt forward, materialising in the tunnel as Lizalfos. Their master had been disturbed, and so they moved to defend him, forming an entrapping circle around the party.

Link drew his sword, and Zelda hers. King Sidon reached for a trident adorned with rubies. These days Inglis preferred a shining claymore to match his brute strength, and Goddess help anyone who got in the way of  _that_. This would be an easy fight, Link knew, though he

whispered a silent prayer to the Goddess and a silent admonishment to Scoutmaster Teba.  _She has no powers to protect herself with; I hope you trained her well._

At the sound of an invisible chime within him, they began.

One by one, the monsters fell; cut down by Link's longsword, battered by Inglis' claymore or skewered by Sidon's trident. Zelda, however, had seized up. She held her sword ready, in a solid, well-protected stance, but she would not move. Again, and again the Lizalfos striked, and each time she dodged, unable to retaliate. In his distraction, Link did not see the lizal weapon trained on  _him_.

It landed with force, connecting with his chest guard. Link fell. Time slowed.

The air cascaded past his ears, as thick as water, and the tunnel ceiling came into view. His longsword flew from his open palm as the ground hit like an electric pulse. Above, the Lizalfos grinned down at him, the sharp point of its blade rocketing to where he lay.

The figure moved in a flash of blue and gold, Zora-made and Rito-design weapon slicing across the Lizalfos' stomach; Zelda had acted at last.

Their eyes met, and around them the world froze; held in picturesque tableau, just like those that Zelda's Sheikah Slate took. Everything beside Link, Zelda, and the Lizalfos blurred, and fragmented. There was a sloshing, squishy sound as the monster's guts spilled out onto the ground.  _Passion or foolhardy?_  Zelda had just used both to save Link's life. He moved to his feet, finding his sword amongst the dirt, and went to her side. Around them, soundless, the battle raged.

"No powers needed?" he asked. Holding her sword in front of her face, and with eyes closed, a picture of calm and control, Zelda murmured, "Just the one."

She re-opened her eyes, and they resumed. Zelda moved between the Lizalfos like a wasp charging, stinging, a conductor with her sword as baton. She disarmed one, gutted another, dodging the strike of a third to let it run headlong into Link's longsword. Back to back they fought, each turning once, twice, to exchange a smile or a wink.

As the last Lizalfos fell, the wall burst open, and the gargantuan form of the King Dodongo lumbered into the tunnel. It took up nearly its entire width, razor-toothed mouth opening to send a tremendous roar booming across the stone. The beast's breath was so hot that Link though his skin might blister.

"Sidon, Inglis! To the cart!" Zelda ordered, pointing to the track.

"What about you?" Inglis demanded.

"It won't be fast enough with all of us!"

Inglis and Sidon allowed themselves to be shoved into the cart, and began pumping away to send it along the tracks, while Link and Zelda ran along side.

"We can't abandon you!" Sidon called back to them, his fins whipping about his face.

Link looked down at the Sheikah Slate, still attached to Zelda's belt. He happened upon an idea that only a situation as ridiculous as this could conjure.

"You won't!" He said with some excitement, and he snatched the Sheikah Slate from Zelda's belt. The Dodongo was closing in, scuttling on his huge legs towards them. Never slowing, Link opened up the runes and tapped gleefully on the newest addition.

It materialised some way in front of them; a kind of two-wheeled cart, stylised to look like a horse. The Sheikah Monks had called it a  _Mastercycle_ , Link's very own Divine Beast.

"Link,  _no_!" Zelda shouted when she saw the contraption, her breath ragged from running.

"Do you want to die?" Link snapped, reaching the cycle and throwing a leg over its narrow seat. There was no time to argue. Zelda climbed on behind him, and in the next moment they were speeding through the tunnel. They came to a fork, through which Link shouted for Inglis and Sidon to take the left side - it would lead to the East Gate of Lanayru Road, the fastest way out of the tunnel.

Banking through the turn, Link unhooked his crossbow from his belt, and handed it back to Zelda. He found three bomb arrows from his quiver as well, modified to work with the smaller weapon.

"It's the same as the first," he told her. "You'll figure it out!"

Zelda managed that in no time, having been the proud surrogate owner of his first crossbow. She ignited a bomb arrow against the spinning back wheel of the Mastercycle, loaded it into the crossbow, and loosed it towards the Dodongo.

"I can't get a good shot!" she cried, and a glance over his shoulder told Link why; the Dodongo had begun to roll. The first fiery bolt that Zelda loose barely made a mark on its hard, scaly skin.

"I can help with that!" Sidon shouted from the push cart. Reaching for his trident, he launched it towards the careening creature, and the slender forks of the weapon lodged cleanly between the Dodongo's scales. It unravelled itself immediately, screeching with pain as it continued to storm towards them on flailing legs.

"Now!" Link cried, and Zelda loosed a second bolt straight into the Dodongo's open mouth just as they burst from the tunnel into the blinding light. Lanayru Promenade lay before them, its twin valley paths and plunging watery ravine coming into view. The arrow exploded within the Dodongo, and the beast lurched forward, stumpy legs collapsing underneath it as it flew forward. Sidon and Inglis dived from the pushcart while Link pulled the handle bars of the cycle sharply to the left. It skidded wheels-first along the ground, just low enough for the Dodongo to clear them overhead. Soaring down into the ravine, the beast disappeared with an unceremonious  _splish_  some ways below.

When all was said and done, none of the party were hurt more than a few cuts and bruises. Sidon immediately began tending to them, using the power his sister had left behind.

"Sidon, you saved us!" Zelda gushed as he healed a graze on her knee.

"I was just doing what my sister taught me," he grinned, nodding down to his glowing hand. "Helping others."

Link was sat next to his damaged Mastercycle, gazing at his hands. "She taught me to sign," he told them.

The honeyed tone of nostalgia filled Sidon's voice. "Of course she did. She was always using her compassion to help people."

Link's memory was jogged once more;  _Beyond wanting to be with you, a marriage would benefit our people. It would bring stability, something we desperately need._

As Sidon turned his healing attentions onto Sir Inglis, Zelda turned towards the valley. "The Dodongo," she murmured. "I thought they were extinct…well, perhaps they are now..."

Link almost hesitated a second time, but consciously, he refused. The Goddess had given him second chances numbering in the infinite; he didn't want to waste a single one.

" _We're_  alive," he, reaching out to Zelda. Startling, she turned to face him.

"We are," she said, her expression turning into a beaming smile. "What a thrill that was! We're alive!"

He could not help himself then; Link drew her in for a hug, holding her close, and whole, and his.

"I missed you," he said.

Hugging him tighter, Zelda whispered. "I missed you too."

Link took a deep breath. The words were in his throat, demanding to be said.

"Zel?" he asked nervously.

"Yes?" she returned sweetly.

"I accept."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! You'll notice the chapter opener is no longer a poem, but a quote from Rhoam's diary. I wanted to show more of his diary since this work is centred around its contents!


	6. Link

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com). Extended notes for Ch 5/6 linked at the end :)

_I can feel fate dragging me into darkness, and not long ago I would have let myself be taken along. But I have means enough to resist, and Goddess be damned I will resist._

King Rhoam's Diary, entry #472

* * *

A quadrant of bedposts greeted Link as he opened his eyes. He looked between them towards the ceiling, having never done so before, and noticed that it was painted the blue colour of the sky.

The air around him was heady, or perhaps it was just the heat in his core. Soon the warmth began to drain, from his chest down to his hands, though it was a pleasant feeling. Breath still caught, skin still tingling, Link exhaled.

Beside him, Zelda sighed, stretching long like a cat waking from a nap. She coiled herself around him, an arm across his bare chest.

In the low candlelight, as outside the first snows of winter began to fall, Link's mind was clear. Clear, save for five, unassuming words forming a languid truth on his lips.

"I should have accepted sooner."

Zelda chuckled softly, lifting her head to look him in the eye.

"Was that better than usual?" she asked. Running gentle fingertips over her back, Link gave her a peck on her open lips, and said, "It was perfect."

Giggling again, Zelda rolled out of bed, scrounging on the floor for her hastily discarded clothes. Link watched contentedly as she then weaved her hair into a long braid, and his sedated mind thought that it looked somewhat like a scorpion's tale.

"You'll have to teach me that," he murmured, hardly realising he'd said the words out loud. "For the wedding. We could have matching hair."

Zelda turned to give him a concerned look.

"The wedding," she repeated slowly, tasting the words. "So, you really want to go through with this?"

"Well, yeah," Link said. He sat up, ignoring the pleasant lethargy in his muscles. "Why wouldn't I?"

Drawing her hands in close to her chest, Zelda considered her words. After the two-week silence following her proposal, she and Link had both promised to be more frank with each other – something they had been working on for years. When Zelda finally spoke, Link could tell it took a conscious effort not to soften the words.

"My Father hated being King. He hated royal life-"

"I'm not your father—"

"What if you were unhappy-"

"I could never be—"

"And there's all this protocol—"

Link laughed, throwing away the covers and hopping out of bed. Stark naked as the day he was born, and as honest and open as his lack of covering suggested, he knelt before her, taking her hands in his.

"Forget protocol, forget your father's words. Where else would I choose to be but by your side?"

At last Zelda's concerned expression melted away into a smile. She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, and Link feigned reeling away in shock, flopping down onto the floor. Once they were both done laughing, Zelda gazed down at him with a kind of intense, ephemeral love, one that Link wanted to catch and hold and never let go of. She saw his giddy expression and said;

"Put some clothes on, Hero. You're making me blush."

* * *

Dressed and ready to face the day, Link and Zelda departed their room in the Royal Apartments for the Council Hall. Mornings here began as they had in Rhoam's day - with a briefing, attended by the Advisors. Certain traditions needed not be broken.

Zelda sat at the centre of the long table, with Link on her left and Larella on her right. Scoutmaster Teba was also in attendance, conversing quietly with his wife Saki on the far end of the table. The Royal Treasurer, Verne, sat opposite the Queen, adjusting the knot of his floral patterned cravat. At his right was a new face, a youthful woman with chestnut brown hair worn long and straight. She was the newly recruited High Priestess of Hyrule, Lady Adelina of New Rauru, a self-made scholar of theology.  _Of course, there are no more scholars in Hyrule, so I simply collected whatever records and information I could find on Hyrule's religious history,_ she had told an impressed Zelda at interview.

Chief Advisor Larella was the first to give her report; the damage to the Lanayru Tunnel by the Dodongo was minor and had been repaired quickly. The tremors too had stopped, much to everyone's relief.

Scoutmaster Teba went next; two scores mages of all races had settled at the Great Plateau, though a leader had yet to be chosen. Master Aurelia of the Yiga has gone to the Plateau as well, wishing to give her own magelings a chance to learn their clan's art.

Link would report on the royal forces next, but having been away, he had nothing to share. Teba, being now a man of information, stepped comfortably into the role.

"Sir Thomas has returned to his home in Rauru," he informed the council.

"Thom?" Lady Adelina gasped. "He's been made a Knight?"

"I knighted him," Link affirmed. "You know him?"

Adelina clutched her chest, a nostalgic smile on her face. "Our families resettled there some years ago. He's an old friend."

"What did he return home for?" Zelda asked.

" _Strange happenings in the north_ ," Teba answered, sneering at the words. "Normally I wouldn't let a Knight leave for such a vague statement but…" His voice trailed off, and he shuffled awkwardly in his chair.

"Sir Thomas went against our orders. He is...away without leave," said Saki tactfully.

Lady Adelina gasped again, clutching her chest tighter. Even Link felt his breath catch.  _Of all the places to run off too_ …

However, against his expectations, Zelda merely pressed her lips into a frown. "Well, let's hope for good reason. The north is a strange and dangerous place."

Link knew immediately of what she spoke. The Great Forest of Hyrule lay some way north of new Rauru. Even a Knight could lose their way in there.

Zelda turned to Lady Adelina. "Do you trust him?"

Without reservation, Adelina nodded. "I do...but he should not have done this."

As Zelda and the advisors spoke on what to do, Link closed his eyes, extending his consciousness north. His spirit leapt across the Hylia River, down the winding roads and between the open-mouthed trees until it reached that secret grove hidden at the forest's centre.

 _I am here_ , whispered the ancient voice, and Link knew; the Master Sword was undisturbed.

"I will go to find him," Link announced, opening his eyes. The Queen and her advisors turned in unison to stare, with Zelda's frown deepening. "I know that area well," Link explained further. "If the people of Rauru are hiding him, they will answer to the Battlemaster."

The Council had their reservations - some on sending just one person to find Sir Thomas, and others sending anyone at all. Zelda admitted that she disliked letting Link go again, but she could not deny that Link was best suited to go to Rauru. And she could hardly join him, having so recently been away.

"Plus, there is a royal wedding to plan!" Larella added with a hint of excitement.

The decision was made. That afternoon, Link and Zelda made their way down through the underbelly of Hyrule Castle, to the cavernous docks below. Zelda opted to join Link on the rowboat across the Hylia River towards Rauru Hill, and they each took an oar. While the journey short, Zelda found time to tell Link the story of her father's ill-fated naval fleet. As she did, he felt a flicker of recognition.

"Wait...wasn't it destroyed by the Yiga?"

"Yiga Pirates!" Zelda correct, with a somewhat bitter laugh. "Just my father's luck. He was always cursing fate for dealing him that hand."

Link looked at the rapier belted at Zelda's hip. He'd been thinking about it often since Zelda had used it to save his life within the Lanayru Tunnel.

"You've been thinking about your father a lot, haven't you?" he asked her.  _Is that the reason for the sword? The need to be competent? To be independent?_  As if in answer, Zelda placed a hand on its hilt.

"I have," she answered sadly.

"Me too," Link hummed. He reached for her rapier and pulled it some way from its scabbard, inspecting the make of the steel. "Mine feared all swords in the end. I wonder what yours would say to this."

They neared the bank, and the boat bumped against the shore. Zelda moved Link's hand away, the rapier sliding back into its scabbard with a clink. As he prepared to disembark, she said, "Neither of us need fear our fathers anymore. At least, so I hope."

* * *

_One hundred and five years earlier_

* * *

King Rhoam of Hyrule could still remember a time when his hair was not yet white, but the memory was fading.

It was a time filled with light. In those days his hair was straw-coloured, perhaps golden in the sun. He did not think of those days often. The temporary nostalgia that they brought was soon blotted with regret, and so Rhoam lived facing forward. To turn back would be to fall.

When his hair had turned grey, he had hardly stopped to notice.

It was Elder Soklee of Kakariko Village that made the King aware of his greyed locks. Fitting her title, she was now an ageing woman herself, though none would know unless told. The Sheikah moved on time scales that were subtly different from the Hylians'.

Meeting him privately in the Council Hall, Elder Soklee sized him up as she always did, narrow red eyes almost interrogative. "The crown takes its toll, doesn't it, Your Majesty?"

"We're matching now," Rhoam quipped, running a hand through his snowy beard. The old woman smiled.

"And yet, the crown it has not taken your snark. It's admirable. Humour is the last mark of a decent man."

Hoping the statement was not a jape, Rhoam gestured for Elder Soklee to take a seat at the long Council Hall table. A myriad of maps and diagrams had been laid out on the ancient wooden table in a well-organised but large spread. So  _much_  had been found, Rhoam was unsure if there was a way to parse it all.

The rest of the attendees for the meeting began filtering in; Rhoam's advisors, and his daughter too, who had argued that if she were to have a role in defeating Calamity Ganon, then she would not be kept in the dark. Princess Zelda arrived first, sitting next to Elder Soklee. Rhoam noted with some chagrin that she was not dressed in her proper finery but something closer to traveller's clothes of bright blues and whites and gold.

Spymaster Malachi was next, his white cape swishing behind him, and he sat on Soklee's other side, exchanging a smile with Zelda as he walked passed. The two Sheikah, however, immediately deigned to ignore each other. The High Priest of Hyrule came in next; he was a gouty, sauntering man named Rin Richardson, and was so sure of his position that he was yet to train a replacement. Chief Advisor Voswann ambled slightly behind like an old horse whipped into submission. He now outranked both Rhoam and Soklee's old age, surely close to ninety now, or past it.

Battlemaster Otra came in last with the rest of the advisory. Time too was beginning to creep along his visage; in his scars and his own grey-black hair, as well as the crow's feet around his eyes. Yet he was still a fit man, carrying his sword and shield wherever he went.

Once everyone was present, Rhoam took a seat opposite Soklee so that he may be close to the papers. He reached across the table and pointed to the diagrams at the front of a collection. They were two technical drawings not unlike an architect's, but showing the outline and inner workings of two animal constructs. The first was a somewhat like a camel and the second an elephant.

"These were uncovered in the past few months, with the camel excavated almost a year past in Gerudo Canyon."

Elder Soklee studied the diagrams, leaning over the table for a closer look. She pointed first to the camel, and then to the elephant. The names she spoke sounded like an ancient language.

" _Vah Naboris_ ,  _Vah Ruta_. Their names and likenesses are passed down through our tapestries."

"They need pilots, don't they?" Zelda asked.

"I should think so, despite their name they were built and controlled by people."

"It is imperative we find the others," said Malachi, who had been appraising the drawings with a satisfied smirk. He looked to Soklee. "I believe  _you_  know what we would be looking for."

" _I_  am not the only Sheikah here, Spymaster. You were taught these things as well," Soklee returned coolly.

The fortune teller threw open his hands. "I've been away a long time."

Breaking the silent standoff between herself and Malachi, Soklee sighed and turned to Rhoam.

" _Vah Medoh_ , and  _Vah Rudania_. Eagle and lizard, air and fire. They will complete the quartet."

Rhoam nodded. "We have excavations in Hebra and Eldin as we speak. It won't be long."

He pointed then to the diagram beside the two larger illustrations, depicting a kind of spidery automaton, with a single beady eye and six segmented legs.

"The first was found in Lanayru, shortly after the breach of Rutala Dam. The Zora reported seeing it wash out of their spillway.  _Many_  others have since been found, quite a few around Hyrule Castle."

Once against Soklee spoke the relic's name; " _Guardians_ ," she said, and then smiled down at Zelda. " _These_  are the automatons, Princess, though I know little else. And…is this one missing a foot?"

"That would appear to be the case," Rhoam said. "I've set Master Robbie on the case. He says it can be repaired."

"It would make the limb susceptible to future damage, however," Zelda added, to Rhoam's surprise.  _How did she hear that? When could she have heard that?_

"Hylia help us," Soklee whispered, taking in the full display on the table before them. "I was taught about Sheikah Technology as a girl, but I suppose I never imagined it was actually real. Rhoam, never forget that these things were  _weapons_  first and foremost. Autonomous, powerful weapons."

"Typical Sheikah cynicism," Malachi scoffed. "These instruments will save our Kingdom, and they belong to our people. We should celebrate."

Soklee would not even look at Malachi as he spoke. He could have been a rotting corpse, and she would have looked no more disgusted.

"I will stake no claim in what you have unearthed, Spymaster," Soklee lifted her eyes to Rhoam. "There is a  _reason_  the Sheikah abandoned this technology."

"Fear? Isolationism?" Malachi challenged her. "Or pride, and unwillingness to aid the Royal Family when needed?!"

Soklee spun in her chair, bearing down on the Spymaster. The room was deathly silent, and Rhoam braced for the Sheikah Elder to lay out all of the Malachi's crimes then and there, reminding all of the advisors of his shady past. Yet Malachi sat ready, sardonic smile ever present as a rebuff.

"I stand by Soklee's hesitation," Otra said from the other side of the table, shattering the tension. "If these relics really are weapons, then perhaps they should remain in the ground."

At this, High Priest Rin and Voswann both joined the protest.

"Battlemaster Otra has a point, we don't yet know if there even is a threat," Voswann croaked.

The High Priests was somewhat less polite in his misgivings. "Threat or no threat, these  _Beasts_  and these relics are dark magic. Only the gods should be able to fashion life. It is heresy."

Both Malachi and Elder Soklee glared at the High Priest then, united for a brief moment.

"It is our history—"

"It is hardly magic—"

The opposing Sheikah exchanged a tense glance as if angered that the other would dare argue in their place. In unison, they turned their harsh gaze back on the High Priest, and the man visibly withered.

"The excavations will go ahead," Rhoam declared. "Regardless of the implication, we have found a monument of Hyrule's history."

"And we cannot ignore the threat of Calamity Ganon," Malachi pressed. "Though I know some remain unconvinced."

He sneered at Soklee, but the Elder waved him away. "No, Malachi, I happen to agree with you here."

The shock registered on Malachi's face as nothing more than a quirked brow. Soklee continued, "The signs of a resurrection are clear. I sensed it when the Queen brought me news of the Lynel in Necluda, some fifteen years ago. But now it is undeniable. The Blood Moons come more often. Our crops grow slower, or not at all. Some of our warriors have seen Bokoblins in Blachery Plain. Beasts or not, you must be vigilant. There is yet one piece missing, and if you find that piece, then I will concede that Malachi's prophecy is truth."

"And that piece is?" Rhoam asked. The entire room seemed to lean in to hear the answer.

" _The_   _Sword that Seals the Darkness_ ," Soklee told them.

* * *

Few people would believe that a sixteen-year-old boy could set off in the winter time to find and slay a one-eyed giant, but to Link it did not seem so strange, although he had taken to pointing out that he was now closer to seventeen.

Most Knights-in-Training did not seek out their first Hinox until they were eighteen at least, sometimes even twenty. A Hinox could weigh three tonnes, sometimes more, and they were not sporting beasts like the Bokoblins or the Lizalfos, who at least enjoyed something of the art of combat. Hinoxes just wanted to be left alone and considered all assailants little more than insects to be squashed as quickly as possible.

It was for this reason that Link had no intention of getting anywhere near one. Despite his combat prowess, he was short for his age, something his fellow Knights never let up on.  _Small fry_ , they called him.  _Golden boy_ , too, for his blonde locks and prodigious history.

Word had reached Link of a dense forest, north of Rauru. Perhaps there, he reasoned, a Hinox would be restricted in its movement, and all that would be needed was enough patience and a few well-placed arrows.

The innkeeper at the modest Rauru Village drew this story from Link with a glass of free Highlander Rasp upon hearing that he was a Knight-in-Training. Link had only wanted a warm cup of Hyrule Herb Tea and pointed out to the man that he was probably too young for alcohol, but the innkeeper insisted.

"Rauru Village has few heroes, but we can claim Sir Niko. If you've served under him then you're a decent sort," he said. The innkeeper was thin, with sagging skin, modest like his inn, but he smiled warmly, wrinkled eyes making half moons. Link could not help but mention that Sir Niko was, in fact, his archery instructor, and the innkeeper grinned wider.

"Why are you up here anyway?" he asked.

"Going into the forest."

The Innkeeper's warm demeanour vanished. "Oh, oh  _no_. My boy, you know it isn't safe. That forest is forbidden."

Link raised his eyebrows at the superstition.  _It's just a forest_ , he wanted to say, but thought against arguing with a man who had given him free drinks. He was not one for much talk anyhow. It was easier to let others tell their stories and their worries, keeping his own close and hidden. It kept his mind clear.

Placing two blue rupees on the innkeeper's bar for the bitter tasting Highlander Rasp, Link left the inn. He ignored the man's warning and headed directly north, following the path into the forest.

At first, the trees weren't so dense as he had imagined, though they were sturdy and wide, and would make for good cover. The forest smelt strangely foul, somewhat like manure, and there was an eerie silence where he had expected to hear bird and bugs. Above the sky was darkening with the threat of an oncoming storm, though it was yet noon, and sure enough, the rain began to fall in heavy sheets. Not long after that, the clouds flashed with light, and thunder rumbled overhead.

Link scanned the forest for some shelter but saw nothing. His only option was to press in further in hopes of finding a cave or an outcrop to camp under or to simply locate and slay his Hinox and be on his way.

At once, a bolt of lightning struck some way ahead, obliterating a group of trees that it had hit. The sickening splintering of burnt wood filled the forest as they collapsed into a heap. Once it was done, Link felt his hairs standing on end.  _Innkeep was right, it isn't safe_.

It was too late to turn back now, however; the entrance of the forest had disappeared behind him. Link drew his sword and pressed on, unsure what help that would be against the storm. It proved to do the opposite; sparks of static were soon leaping away from the steel, stinging his hands and singeing his arm hair. Link's whole body buzzed as the sparks came fast, their arcs larger. Faster they came, and faster still, and then louder and hotter, and before Link knew what he was doing, he  _threw_  his sword as far as he could.

The second bolt of lightning struck his sword as it careened through the air. The ground shook, the sudden light and heat so immense that Link was thrown off his feet. He was blinded, ears ringing.

When he recovered, Link finally realised what had occurred. His  _sword_  had drawn a bolt of lightning. He had heard the older Knights warn of the danger of storms, but none had never explicitly mentioned that! With the storm still raging around him, Link's only hope was to crouch low and wait it out.

Once the rain had stopped, and the clouds began to thin, a rain-soaked Link stood to shake himself off. He found his sword - vexingly undamaged - at the bottom of a nearby hill. The ground where it lay was burnt black. Link resolved to press on so that he could be rid of his place.

Another mile brought him into a part of the forest where a white, swirling mist had descended. The trees pressed in so close that it was hard to see more than one hundred feet. Their trunks began to open into husks as well, something akin to screaming faces. The place made Link's stomach churn, but he continued on.

Rummaging through his pack, Link found and lit a torch. He struck his flint twice, three times, the mist so heavy and humid that it would not catch. The flame that finally burned on the torch felt cleansing. He watched it flicker and saw it hold steadily westwards. If there was wind, perhaps there was a hollow or narrowed cave that he could take shelter in to wait out the nightfall. With no other recourse, Link followed the direction of the flame.

Countless trees passed by, all with faces of agony carved into their trunks. Night was falling, though Link could only tell by the gradual drop in temperature. The mist had supplanted the sky above. The flame moved this way and that, and yet he followed it dutifully. Following, always following.

At last, and somewhat abruptly, the mist receded, revealing a grassy path set between two steep cliff faces. Eager for respite, Link followed it without a second thought.

The path led him through a huge log hollow and into an evergreen clearing. Here, golden light streamed through the trees, and the air was clear and crisp. The sky was now a bright blue as if it were midday.  _How is that possible?_ Not one mile ago he'd been in the depths of a swampy wasteland.

As Link padded along the path, mystified by this secret place he had found, a sword came into view. And after that, a stone pedestal, and a colossal, frowning tree, with a sombre face carved into its bark.

The sword was different than any other he had seen; its grey-blue blade that seemed to glow, and its purple hilt was patterned in a diamond crisscross. It had a winged crossguard, decorated with a large golden gem. Something about the weapon called to him. In the corner of his consciousness, Link heard its voice.

"Who is this that comes before me, the Great Deku Tree?"

Link looked up, jolting backwards at the booming voice. It was not the voice he had expected from the sword - but he realised then that it had come from the tree. Impossibly, the carved face  _moved_. At instinct, Link drew his sword, and the tree laughed, sending a shudder through the entire clearing.

"Brave, and bold too. Name yourself, he who conquers the Lost Woods and emerges to claim the Sword that Seals the Darkness."

Link gaped up at the tree, utterly dumbfounded. Was  _this_  what the innkeeper had spoken of? Was the tree a demon? A god?

"Well?" it pressed.

"Link! O-Of Hateno Village!" Link answered, unsure what else to do.

"I see," the tree hummed. "Your timing is impeccable. The Koroks speak of a resurrection, of men in masks. It will be soon. Ten-thousand years ago, Princess and Knight stood before me. Are you the next Hero of Hyrule to face the Calamity?"

 _Calamity?_   _Hero of Hyrule?_ None of these words meant anything to Link, and so he said nothing.

"I must warn you, the Sword is not kind to those who claim it," the Deku Tree went on. "One must be not only strong, and brave. One must be  _unbreakable in spirit_."

Link sheathed his soldier's sword, and Link placed a hand on the one in the pedestal, feeling the grooves of the hilt. Unbreakable was hardly a word he would use to describe himself; all can break, and he was only a Knight. When he gave the sword a gentle tug, he gasped. It was worse than bleeding, worse than being bruised. His very life force felt as though it was being pulled from him.

He sprang back from the sword, and in his periphery, a dozen or more pair of  _eyes_  appeared. There were barely visible, hidden amongst the grasses or the leaves of the trees, but the little creatures were there. They had wooden bodies and eerily blank masks for faces. Were they smiling? It was hard to tell.

Recovering, Link remembered his actual mission: to find and slay a Hinox. He had no wish to die in this strange clearing for a sword, when he already had one at his back.

"I will return," he told the tree.

"You will not take the Sword now?"

Link was not sure how to explain. He settled on, "I must speak with my father."

As Link left the forest, he drew his own sword once again. In the storm, the weapon had nearly killed him. He wondered if the effect could be replicated. After some prodding for information, The Rauru innkeeper told Link that Hyrule Ridge was famed for its lightning storms and its danger with monsters.

That was it then; he would seek out a Hinox in Hyrule Ridge, wait for a storm, and plant whatever metal weapons on its person.

"Is there a smithy in town?" he asked the innkeeper between sips of a healing cup of Hyrule Herb Tea.

"Of course there is, what are you after?"

"Swords. As many as they have."

The innkeeper laughed and pointed to Link's back. "You've already got one there, son."

"One is not enough."

* * *

Rhoam read the list of tarot cards in his written journal. The words were faded now, but Malachi's hand was legible still:  _Number Fifteen - The Knight_.

Was any of it a surprise? Was there any room to doubt a prophecy that had been so consistently fulfilled?

And yet…

Rhoam was wholly unsurprised when Link of Hateno Village found the  _Sword that Seals the Darkness_. Some things felt like fate, embossed into the fabric of Hyrule like letter pressings on an envelope. And Rhoam would take the good that fate brought him with open, unquestioning hands.

Yet Link, now Sir Link after slaying his first Hinox, had not retrieved the sword. What the boy  _had_  done was no less extraordinary - where most boys battle the brutish Hinoxes head-on, Link rustled up as many steel swords as he could, hid them around the Hinox and waited for a storm. He was gone near three weeks by the time he returned with the ghastly thing's head tied to his saddle. The cheers of his fellow Knights were so loud that they could be heard all the way from the Hyrule Garrison, where he had taken his trophy.

Sir Micah had been the one to bring the news of the sword to Rhoam. Disappointed though Micah was that his son had gone into such a dangerous place as the Great Forest, he was glad that Link had returned unharmed. The Knight then urged that the Sword be retrieved at once.

"Of course, naturally Link should go" Rhoam suggested, but Sir Micah was in strict opposition.

"You are the King, but I am his father," he had declared. "Send all others, myself even, before you send Link."

Rhoam could not deny the man the simple need to protect his son. Elder Soklee's ultimatum put had a shadow over all their heads; if the Sword is retrieved, then Calamity Ganon would return. Not an  _if_. But a  _when_. Whosoever recovered that Sword would no doubt have a part to play in Ganon's defeat.  _Alongside my daughter_ , Rhoam had realised, and the thought made his chest tighten.

Fifty standing knights now made up Rhoam's army, with a further six dozen royal guards and near two hundred soldiers. There was plenty of stock to send north to claim the sword. Incentivising such an endeavour was not difficult - he offered a Knighthood and entry into Rhoam's personal guard to all with stationed lower than Knight, and a lordship and a place on Rhoam's advisory to the Knights. Within a day, a dozen knights and twice as many soldiers had volunteered to go. Rhoam was certain the sword would be retrieved within a week. Their years of work would come to fruition. Soon, everything would fall into place!

 _Would that it were so simple_.

Rhoam trembled to look at the figures that were brought before him.

Ten Knights simply vanished into those woods. An eleventh returned severely injured, carrying a twelfth, who was dead.

Rhoam knew the face of the slain Knight immediately; Sir Nico, the archery master. When they brought him to the Castle Infirmary, he looked as though his lifeforce had been sucked from him. His eyes were sunken deep into his sockets, his skin shrivelled and dry and his hair had been shocked white. Battlemaster Otra shed a tear at the sight, and Rhoam realised he had never seen his friend weep before.

The returned Knight, Hallam, was beyond distraught. "T-T-The tree!" he had raved. "He warned me! But I didn't listen, and neither did Nico!"

" _The tree_? What are you talking about?" Rhoam demanded.

"Some demon! In a tree! And the Sword...it's deadly. It's  _cursed_!"

From then, no more Knights would go, so the soldiers went next. Rhoam found himself in prayer for the first time in his life. He even had Zelda lead a vigil the night the first of them left. She played the part impeccably, reciting the words with a passion so genuine that Rhoam himself had taken to weeping.

And yet, none returned. Not a single one.

Each man that did not come back sowed another seed of discord in the Hylian Court. Word began to spread of the unfolding massacre. Some were frightened by it, some were bolstered. The line of soldiers ready to face death for a chance at glory never grew short.

All eyes turned on Rhoam and his council. Whispers filled the hallway of the palace, and then the streets, and then the settlements across Hyrule, to the homes of the other races, and perhaps beyond.

_This mad King we have. He will sacrifice his own, but whatever for?_

Even Malachi's support waned. Strangely, the fortune teller opposed the mission from the outset.  _Far too dangerous, and unnecessary. We have what we need._

Nearly two weeks had passed since Rhoam sent the order for men to go north. He now waited up until the late hours of the night, hopeful of some news. Any news.

Malachi waited too. He stood before Rhoam's desk, a goblet in hand. Another boat of soldiers had departed for Rauru after sunset just a few hours before. The pair shared a bottle of wine to soothe their nerves.

"If they don't come back…" Rhoam began.

"Perhaps someone yet will. Your Majesty," Malachi assured him. "But it is not too late to call this all off."

Rhoam ushered for Malachi to sit, and the Sheikah obliged. Leaning forward, Rhoam looked him deep in the eye.

The haze of inebriation exaggerating his already desperate state, he said. "But then what am I? A murderer? A tyrant? Has my Kingdom already begun to fall?"

For once, Malachi hesitated. All that confidence and charm that had marked the man's meteoric rise was gone. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I sense that someone will return. I hear it spoken. But if they don't..." The Sheikah drained the rest of his wine, smiling into his cup. "Then we must rely on your daughter's prayers."

The King burst into a spittle-laden laugh, and Malachi's own chortle followed. They each poured another glass and fell into a comfortable silence to resume their waiting.

* * *

The summoning for Link came in a short, urgent letter. He was to appear before the Royal Court first thing the next morning, and answer to a 'great duty'.

He had been sitting with his father in the armoury of the armoury of Hyrule Castle when the letter arrived. They had both been working their weapons. Link was taking a whetstone to his shining new Royal Guard Sword, while Sir Micah had been re-wrapping the leather on the hilt of his identical, but much older weapon. His father read the summoning letter with gritted teeth, shaking his head.

"You cannot deny the King, but I will go with you."

Deny the King, deny his father; two impossible feats. Link attended court with Sir Micah in tow.

Seated upon his throne, King Rhoam loomed over the rest of the court. The light streaming in through the tall windows at his back framed him in a harsh, brutal light. His commanding voice filled the Throne Room.

"You are the youngest to achieve your title, and for your efforts, you will travel north, where the real test will begin."

And that was that. A host of Advisors and courtiers wished Link luck, their spirits lifted by the news. Yet the only face Link wished to see brightened was his father's, and it did not budge. His father's cold disapproval wrought great pain within Link. Why wasn't he proud of his own son? All Link's life, he'd wanted to be his father. But Sir Micah had taken to reject that notion, and would not explain his reasons for doing so.

As they walked through the hallways of the Castle back to the barracks, Micah said, "You will not go. I will speak to the King."

Link stopped mid-step. "What,  _why_?" Sir Micah continued on down the hall, his steps and his tone impatient.

"Over fifty men have disappeared or otherwise perished, and you ask me why I forbid you?"

"But, I found the sword easily the first time," Link insisted. Surely his father could not seek to disobey the King? Even that was a step too far for him.

"A fluke," Micah frowned. "Just as likely as a tragedy."

"Well, I'll be careful. It isn't hard, I just need to light a torch."

Every word Link spoke seemed to draw more of his father's ire. "Do you think those other Knights weren't careful? I  _personally_  trained many of them, Link!"

His father's footfalls grew faster and heavier as he marched towards the barracks. Link jogged to keep up. "I'm a Knight now, just like they were!" he argued, but Micah did not slow.

"No!"

"But the King said-"

"I said, no!"

Link reached out to grab his father's arm, and the man spun around to face him. His boots squeaked on the marble. Rage was in his eyes.

Link felt the fear within him, and the iron grip it formed around his throat.

He moved his hands instinctively to sign but knew his father would not understand.

He swallowed, and then spoke, quiet as a summer breeze; "I won't let any more people die because of me. Mother-"

"Do not bring your mother into this!"

"Well, why not!?" Link snapped, his voice filling the hallway. The sound felt as loud as a thunderclap. Link rode the wave of anger within him, bringing his face mere inches from his father's. "We've never spoken of what happened, all because you're afraid to admit that neither of us could save her-"

" _Go then!_ " Micah roared, shoving Link backwards. "Go get your bloody sword! Throw yourself at death if you miss your mother so! But know that I warned you.  _I_ am a Knight, Link, one of the oldest and proudest, and look how  _happy_  it has made me!"

Unable to look away from his anguished father, Link took three heavy paces backwards. And then, he went.

* * *

The training yard was empty, but Link knew he would find Otra there. The Battlemaster was dedicated to his soldiers and Knights and practically lived in the garrison at Hyrule Castle.

The only light that Link could see was emanating from the armoury, and when he approached, he heard voices inside. After a moment of focused listening, he recognised them as belonging to Otra, and the King.

Link dashed around to the other side of the armoury, where he could hide, and hear without behind seen. However, when he rounded the back of the armoury, he found the hiding spot already occupied.

Crouching with her back pressed against the wall was none other than Princess Zelda. She was not dressed her usual flouncy gown, but rather a practical (though no less ornate) outfit of riding pants, boots and a blue tunic. She squeaked when she saw him, harshly whispering,

" _What are you doing here_?"

Link stared at her in shock. He nodded in her direction, returning the question.

"I'm just listening," she said petulantly. "You didn't see me."

Link nodded again and pressed a finger to his lips. In silent solidarity, they crouched side by side against the wall, listening to the conversation within.

"...I take it you don't have any good news to report…"

"...No, I don't. No sign of any beyond Hallam. And the poor man can barely talk…"

"Malachi tells me the people think the land is  _cursed_."

"Well, you saw the latest harvest numbers, didn't you? If this keeps up, we are facing a famine. I think the people are justified."

"Our work frightens them, that much is clear. They see the power we've unearthed, now that the fourth beast has been found, and Dr Purah has that Sheikah relic powered up. Do you know she calls it a Guidance Stone? She says my daughter came up with the title! Of all people!"

Link cast a glance over at Zelda, who was fuming.  _Shut up_  she mouthed to him, though he had said nothing, and Link hurriedly looked away.

Otra's levelled tone suddenly turned grave. "Call off the conquest of that sword, Rhoam. We are starving our army thin. And tough times are coming."

"You don't believe the prophecy."

"No, but I know what a storm on the horizon looks like."

"Well,  _someone_  must get that sword," the King insisted.

"Then who? Micah? I will not send him, not after Nico..."

"Perhaps you must. He still refuses to let Link go."

 _No!_  The thought of his father being sent distressed Link so much that he nearly bolted into the armoury to argue against it. He would die first rather than let his father walk into that haunted forest. Perhaps he would have to.

As soon as the King departed, Link stood to enter the armoury.

The Princess called out to him then, thought her tone was sour, accusatory even. "You're Link, aren't you? The prodigy?"

Link shook his head. "I'm just a knight." He left the hiding Princess without another word.

Battlemaster Otra was finishing off an inventory of the armoury when Link entered. Wasting no time, Link explained his wish plainly and without pretence;

"I want to go north for the Sword. I'm the only one who can do it."

"You're usually a little more humble than this," Otra smiled, but then he sighed. "Your father is one step ahead of you, however. He's asked the King to bar your exit from this Castle."

"W-what?"

Otra shrugged, unphased. "It's a good thing I know how to sneak you out."

Hurriedly equipping Link with some provisions for the journey, and a brand Hylian Shiel, Otra led him down to the Hyrule Docks. Amongst the small fleet of riverboats docked there, he found a rowboat, and together they made their way across the Hylia River as the sun began to set.

Once they were across, Link splashed out onto the banks beyond. He adjusted the sword at his back and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Rain had begun to fall.

"Why are you doing this for me, Otra?" Link asked, turning back towards the Battlemaster, who had remained in the rowboat. "I thought you were against it all."

Otra wiped the rain from his eyes and blew air through his cheeks.

"I do oppose it. All of it. But I have a feeling you are destined for that sword. And besides, if everything goes to hell, we need strong fighters, armed well. This is my small contribution."

Link didn't know what to say.

"Are you afraid, boy?" Otra asked quietly.

Link shrugged and shifted his weight between his feet. Otra chuckled, with a warmth that made Link wish the Battlemaster was his father and not Sir Micah. It was a terrible thought, but it lingered.

"There is no shame in it. Courage does not mean you cannot feel fear," Otra said. He anchored the rowboat to the shore with one of the oars, intent to wait for Link. "And in any case, getting that sword will be easy."

"If you say so," Link laughed nervously. He looked back to the massive Hyrule Castle just across the river, realising that Otra had defied both the King and his father to bring Link here. "Otra, don't let my father blame you," he said. "This was my decision."

"As you say, Sir Link," Otra affirmed. As Link turned to climb Rauru Hill, the Battlemaster imparted one final musing. "We'll all be facing our decisions, soon enough."

* * *

The news came to Hyrule Castle at dawn. The messenger's note was short, to the point. No embellishments needed

_A Knight has returned from the north._

For the first time in his reign, King Rhoam had leapt from bed. He knew the details of the rest immediately. The returned rider could be none other than Link. And if he had returned, then he had returned triumphant.

Rhoam sent for Zelda to be roused, as well as Malachi, Otra, Soklee and all of his advisors. All should be present for such a moment. He could have skipped to the throne room, had he been younger and a little thinner around the middle. When Rhoam arrived there, however, he found that Otra had somehow outpaced him. The Battlemaster was snow-soaked, with bags around his eyes and a sad smile on his face. He spoke the words that Rhoam had been anticipating so well he could nearly hear them.

"It was Link. He has the Sword."

And so it was; Sir Link of Hateno was now the owner and master of the  _Sword that Seals the Darkness_. At last, something was going right.

Otra followed up the news with something Rhoam had not been expecting: "He found some of the missing soldiers too. Not all sadly, but some."

Rhoam appraised Otra's weathered look. "Did you accompany him?"

"Only across the river and back."

"You disobeyed my orders."

"And may have just well saved your Kingdom," Otra quipped. He tapped a finger to his head and then pointed at Rhoam. "Remember that during the apocalypse."

The old friends shared a laugh, perhaps for the first time in months, even years. Dawn was finally passed, the stark light of the winter morning filling the Throne Room.

The bittersweet moment dissipated with Zelda's arrival. She had been told - the disdain was evident on her face. The air was below freezing, but somehow the Princess's icy glare made Rhoam shiver.

"Well, now I find myself unsurprised. Who else but the prodigy?" she said with a scowl.

"Be nice," Rhoam said gently. Zelda glared up at him, with the same arresting stare of her mother, and said,

"Of course. Cruelty is another power I've yet to obtain."

Otra's lips peeled back in an expression of awkward shock and mild amusement.

"Zelda, please," Rhoam scolded, but the Princess merely pouted, and stepped through the entrance of the Throne Room onto the steps beyond. Rhoam moved to join her, and the rest of the advisors began to arrive. The apprehension was palpable. The last piece of the prophecy had been found, the battle that it spoke of now unavoidable.

Sir Link approached the Throne Room on foot the mythical sword slung over his back. Zelda's scowl hardened her hate so plainly written on her face that Rhoam feared she might frighten the boy.

Leaving footprints in the snow, Link climbed the steps, unbuckled the sword, and laid it at their feet. He bowed low, saying nothing.

"Rise, Sir Link," Rhoam instructed. "It is we who should bow to you. You have earned an honour higher than all and have succeeded where all others have failed."

The young Knight stood, and re-buckled his sword. Now Rhoam and Zelda bowed, and one by one the Advisors stood before Link to follow suit. Once it was done, Otra led the boy away, adding sadly that they had better go tell his father.

At that, the rest of the advisors filed away, until only Zelda remained, watching Otra and Link walk down the East Passage, her frown never fading.

"What is it, Zelda?" Rhoam asked.

She turned slowly, shaking with fury. "How could you say that?"

"Say what?"

" _You have succeeded where all others have failed_ ," her eyes welled with tears. She balled her fists. "I...I am  _trying_  my absolute hardest!"

Rhoam had not seen his daughter cry since...since before he could remember. The girl never cried, not even when her mother died. Once, it might have stirred compassion in him, but not anymore. Calamity Ganon was a certainty now. Any weakness was intolerable.

He folded his arms. "Trying your hardest? Is that so? Dr Purah let slip that you have been spending time in her laboratory."

"To study the relics! To understand them! If we are all part of the fight against Calamity Ganon, then we cannot work alone."

"You do not work alone, Zelda, I have allowed you into the councils just as you asked. You are wasting your time with the relics, and your slow progress makes that abundantly clear!"

The Princess's mouth fell open. "Then is that all I am you? Something to be made progress on!?"

"You are my daughter, my heir, and you will not fail your Kingdom," Rhoam felt his anger and disbelief rising to match Zelda's. There was no time for such pointless bickering.

"According to you, I already  _have_  failed! I saw the way you looked at the Knight! You wish he were your son, I can see it!"

"Nonsense. Stop this petulance. You have your role as I have mine."

Zelda was not done. She all but screamed at him, her words so loud that a few onlooking faces - watchmen, workers and servants - came in to view.

"You have never once said you were proud of me! All that Knight did was fetch some stupid sword, and you give him more praise than I have ever received. Your own daughter!"

"Enough! Quieten yourself!"

"Admit it, I am useless to you!"

"Zelda please, what would your mother say to this-"

"Don't speak of her!" Zelda shrieked. Her voice clapped off of the stone walls of the castle. "I don't have a mother, I don't have a Father! You both abandoned me, admit it!"

Rhoam glared down at her but refused to budge. Zelda's face was red hot, a stream of tears running down her cheeks. Another outburst like that and she might faint.

Bringing up her mother had been wrong. It was wrong to fight about her, or her legacy. Conceding, Rhoam knelt before his daughter and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tried to pull away, but Rhoam held her tight

Speaking in a soft voice, he said, "You are not useless, Zelda. You forget that  _you_  are the most important person in this whole Kingdom."  _I held you the day you were born,_ he wanted to say.  _I knew it then, and I know it now_.  _If only you had your power, then all would know it as well..._

Zelda shook her head. "I'm not important. Not while _he_  exists. Everyone loves him, for a  _sword_! What does that make me?"

"A leader!" Rhoam proclaimed, climbing slowly to his feet. Zelda blinked up at him.

"P-pardon?"

"I have a plan I want to enact. You cannot give up your vigils, but you must stand at the forefront. As heir, it is only natural."

Hastily, the Princes began to wipe her eyes on the back of her hand. "I don't understand.

"An idea was given to me some years ago, by our Rito friend. You were there, do you remember?"

As she looked towards the mountains of Hebra, Rhoam saw recollection dawning on Zelda's face. Still, she said nothing, blinking away the last of her tears.

"I will explain when things have come to fruition," he told her. "For now, we must send for a courier."

* * *

_The Goron Boss adjusts his heavy chain walks the length of a mining tunnel, passing on words (or shouts) of encouragement to his workers. The work day is almost over, and it has been a long one! The heat of the mountain has been growing lately, the tremors ever more frequent. But no day spent with his brothers is wasted._

_His son Orroth descends into the mine, clutching a comically tiny letter in his rocky paw. He tries to pass it on to Daruk, but he shakes his head._

" _You read it", Daruk tells his son. "You gotta do things yourself, in case I'm not around one day."_

_Orroth hands the letter back. "It's addressed to you", he says._

_The Gerudo Chief watches her royal guards at practice. Her golden crown sits heavy and unwieldy on her head, and she isn't quite yet used to wearing it. The pain of her mother's death remains raw, yet she soldiers on. This is the way of the Gerudo._

_Her aunt Calliope summons her into the throne room with news. More aptly, a note. Urbosa takes it in hand and prepares to read. "What could this be", she asks._

" _Whatever it is, I will be here to guide you," Calliope says, and Urbosa is briefly overcome. As she regains her composure, she says, "Mother would want no other."_

_The Rito Warrior practices at his flight range, slinging arrow after arrow with his trustworthy Great Eagle bow. He has yet to master his power of the gale, and he has heard of groups of mages within Hyrule. Sometimes he has thought to seek them out, but every time he does, he decides against it. Of all the things he is proud to be, it is Rito. He will not leave home but for the highest call._

_His sister, Orni, finds him taking rest in the nearby hut._

" _It was only for a minute," he tells her. "You didn't catch me slacking."_

" _I believe you, brother" Orni smiles, and she shows him the letter she carries. Revali tells her he must train, and that the letter can wait._

" _No, no it can't," Orni says, and when she hands him the letter, it feels like a goodbye._

_The Zora Princess inspects the repairs of the Rutala Dam, glad to see swift progress by the stonemasons. Soon none will know that the dam was ever damaged. It is a great secret; the Zora present an outward image of perfection, but their history is closer to a patchwork than a single bolt of fabric. The thought makes her think of a friendship she worries is lost, and she wonders on how to rekindle it._

_A messenger calls upon her, waving a letter in hand. He is near distraught when he gives it to her._

" _What's the matter?" she asks him with a laugh. "I doubt this is a declaration of war!"_

_The messenger does not smile. "I fear you speak too soon, Princess," he says._

_Goron, Gerudo, Rito and Zora all turn their letters over to see who has summoned them. All are met with unmistakable seal of the Hyrulean Kingdom, the crown overhead signifying the sender: King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule._

_The note within is short and uncompromising. Each word is a rallying cry;_

' _You are called the Hyrule Castle, to be bestowed the highest honour. You are summoned to an ancient duty, to protect and preserve your shared home._

_You - Gerudo, Goron, Rito and Zora - are to be Champions.'_

* * *

One hundred and five years later

* * *

"Link? Are you going now, Link?"

Zelda's voice called Link down from his hazy state.

He had paused at the sight; the slope of Rauru Hill, the quiet village in the distance with a single line of smoke from its chimney, and the knowledge of the forest beyond. It had spurred a memory within him so clear and so vivid that he had been unable to move.

This is where he had come, to defy his father, to retrieve the Master Sword - to become what he remained even now.  _The Hero of Hyrule_. The old words came back in an instant.  _I'm just a Knight_.

At the time, Link had never found out the reason for his father's cruelty, or rejection of him. Link had died thinking his father hated him. But Zelda's powers, at the height of their strength, had allowed them both peer back through the tapestry of time to a private conversation between Battlemaster Otra and Sir Micah. They had learnt the simple truth, perhaps one Link should have guessed.

_My father wanted me to be more._

Link knew now that his father was torn between his pride for his prodigious son, the pain of losing his wife, and the growing desire to see his son freed of a life of service. Had Link accomplished what his father wanted for him? Was he not still bound, as Battlemaster rather than Knight?

"Are you okay, Link?" Zelda called again.

Link turned to see her still sitting in the small rowboat, her hands on the oars.

"I remembered something," he said, extending a hand towards her. Zelda stood at the gesture, frowning slightly. She allowed him to help her to shore, and asked,

"What was that?"

"The real reason I want to marry you," Link answered, leading her up the hill. "I don't want to do any of this alone."

Night was about to fall, and the only light visible in the village came from the small inn. However, they had come to New Rauru at the perfect time.

Sir Thomas was sitting in the saloon within, holding a meeting for the townspeople. He was dressed in his Knight's armour, his long hair bundled into a low bun under his helmet. When he saw Link and Zelda, he visibly paled.

He halted the meeting immediately, and said, "I can explain."

Both Link and Zelda moved to approach the Knight, but Link held her back. He shook his head, mouthing,  _just me_ , and Zelda understood. She moved to the back of the room to watch the unfolding confrontation.

"Explain then," Link instructed Sir Thom, taking a seat amongst the townspeople. They regarded him with a kind of muted disbelief. Some whispered amongst themselves.  _Is that him? Is that the Hero?_

"People are disappearing," Thom said plainly. "My people. I had to help them."

"Where are they going?" Link asked.

"If I knew that, we wouldn't have a problem."

Link nodded - fair point. "Where do you think they're going?"

"They aren't going anywhere!" cried a woman in the crowd. "There's a murderer, we're certain!"

Some of the townspeople began to nod, and mutter in affirmation. "Sir Thom doesn't believe us, but it must be true!" the woman went on. "We must find the culprit. We are  _certain_  they are here amongst us! Where else!?"

Before the crowd, Sir Thom had gone even more white. "N-Now listen here," he called out, trying to bring the now rowdy crowd to silence. "Let's not let this get out of hand!"

"How many are gone, Thom?" Link asked. When the spoke, the crowd finally listened. It almost made him smile, the way his words had power now.

"Just two," the Knight sighed. "A young boy, no older than fifteen, and a lookout named, a man named Bardell."

Link could have asked further questions - when did they disappear, why did the townspeople think there had been a murder, who could they possibly suspect - but there was no need. Two young men, brave and bold, had disappeared without a trace. He knew where they had gone.

"We'll need torches, Thom, as many as you have. I know where they are, and anyone who wants to come see is welcome," Link stood from his chair, and half the townspeople followed, their chairs scraping on the wood of the floor. Sir Thom looked to the crowd before him.

"Well, you heard him! Find some torches!"

Within ten minutes, a dozen townspeople were collected outside the inn, each with a lit torch in hand. Link stood at the front of the crowd with Sir Thom, while Zelda hung back to ensure none became lost. They lead the party north, following a winding path into the Great Forest beyond.

Sir Thom tripped over himself to make his amends. "Let me apologise again, Lord Battlemaster, I should never have left, but I had to help my people."

"Don't worry, we've all disobeyed orders," Link told him. "I once went against the King."

Thom's eyes widened. " _Really?_ " he gasped.

"Something like that," Link muttered, remembering his journey across the river with Otra.

The trek into the Great Forest took just under an hour, with Link leading the way. As they moved between the trees, the people called out the names of those who had been lost, but neither answered. There was only one other place they could be, then.

Finally, as it had for Link many times before, the Great Forest opened up into the hidden grove of the Deku Tree and the creatures he now knew as Koroks. He heard gasps of awe and wonderment as they passed into the clearing. Sir Thom called the names of the missing pair once again, and this time they emerged into the view, appearing from within the tree.

Peals of laughter and cries of relief filled the clearing, as the two missing Rauruians were returned. As Link had surmised, they had made it into the Korok Forest and were being looked after there until their rescue. One hundred years ago, he had found some of the Hylian soldiers and Knights in the same manner.

Gathering up the party, Link explained then that the way in and out was shown by the flames, and that ancient magic protected this place. He warned the people of Rauru before him that above all, it was too dangerous to enter.

"But if you ever get lost here, all you need is some light. Any light. Follow that, and you'll be fine."

The townspeople muttered amongst themselves, and Link hoped they would remember his advice. They dispersed, taking time to continue marvelling at the oasis Link had brought them to. Some had spotted the Master Sword, but none dared approach. Eventually, Sir Thom decided he had had better lead them back to the village, and Link let them go. He was exhausted, not so much from the journey but from leading the group, but the fatigue was a satisfied one. Those people looked up to him, and he had not failed them.

Once the townspeople had departed, Link found that Zelda was standing by the Master Sword.

She was holding a hand out to the hilt and had her eyes closed. When Link went to her side, she opened her eyes.

"Great Deku Tree, did I make the right choice?" she asked the sword's guardian, who watched them with ever solemn eyes.

"If not, you can always return here," the tree answered cryptically. "But let us hope it does not come to that."

Zelda let her hand fall. Link wanted to reach for the Master Sword then, but he hesitated.

No, it would not be right. The Sword had moved on.

 _It is time that I do the same_ , Link thought, knowing that at last, he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended notes for Chapters 5 and 6 are [here](https://rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com/post/170314467534/the-ballads-beginning-ch-56-notes)


	7. Malachi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com). Extended notes will be linked at the end.

_You will wake some mornings, Zelda, questioning whether you have woken at all. Sometimes, the world will simply be... unfathomable. The burden here is twofold; let none of it affect your strength, and let none of it pass your notice._

\- King Rhoam’s Diary, Entry #521

* * *

Stone by stone, beam by beam; as each day passed, Hyrule Castle grew back into its former self.

The Castle was a patchwork of new and old -- much like its inhabitants, actually -- and hence was only reminiscent of its original shape. It was an imitation, some would say a poor one, forged by memory and habit.

Zelda wished her own memory was stronger. Like the Castle, there were parts of Zelda that would never be recovered. And yet, some parts just needed more than time to repair. For several nights past, she had dreamt of being plunged deep into a rushing river, with red, empty faces above her, silhouetted by a glowing, blue light. Zelda knew it was a memory, but the rest was intangible, lost in the eddies of time.

This was where her mind took her as she reviewed plans for the Castle, as well as the town beyond. From Link’s explanation, there were parts of the rebuild that required more than just workers. Large, mechanical cranes were needed to hoist the stone and lumber high into the air. The decimated Hyrule Cathedral was of particular focus, something Zelda knew High Priestess Lady Adelina would be ecstatic over. The young woman yearned for a place to hold her worships -- Zelda on the other hand simply wanted somewhere other than the throne room for her wedding!

Link and Sheikah Researcher Robbie had personally drawn out the plans for the crane’s construction, and Robbie would arrive soon at the Castle to oversee the project. Zelda didn’t mind the work so much -- it reminded her of her old research, something she had yet found time to take up again.

For two hours, Link and Zelda holed up in the latter’s study, checking and double checking the final plans before their esteemed guest arrived to enact them. In exchange for her assistance, Link was to teach Zelda all he could remember of the sign language Mipha had taught him some one hundred and fifteen years prior.

“Do you remember much?” Zelda asked as they worked. She sat at her desk, while Link occupied a high-backed chair beside her.

“I think I never truly forgot, it’s like... muscle memory. Sidon and I practised a bit, and it was all just _there_.”

“I’m glad it hasn’t been lost to you.”

“Me too,” Link said solemnly. He gave her an apologetic look. “I should have told you about it, back then.”

“It was special to you, I understand.”

Folding up the plans he held, Link placed them on the desk with a contented sigh. Meeting Zelda’s bemused gaze, he held his open palm to his ear and pressed his fingers and thumb together.

“Listen!” Zelda recalled. “That one means listen. Are we starting now?”

Link nodded. In a smooth gesture, he brought his hand to his chin, then moved it outwards and away from his face.

“Um, beard?”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Link corrected with a chuckle. “It means thank you.”

Zelda repeated the gesture, delighted. It had been so _long_ since she had learned something new. The spark of curiosity had returned, and she was about to demand a new word when there was a knock on her study door.

The Rito scout who delivered the news was wide-eyed and open-beaked with shock and stammered like a child when he spoke.

“Y-Your Majesty, your guest is accompanied by...by a-a thing! A mechanical beast!”

The poor Rito grew only more mortified when both Link and Zelda laughed.

“Send Robbie my good fortunes, and pass on that we will meet both him and Rhoamet at the old Royal Laboratories on the morrow.”

The scout bowed and scurried from the room so fast his talons scratched on the stone.

Still sitting beside her desk, Link was staring at her expectantly, wide-eyed as the scout had been -- only not from fear, but anticipation. Zelda need not ask. His face said only one thing; _may I?_

“Go,” Zelda said. “Find your Guardian. I have plenty of work to do here.”

Link bounced to his feet, gave her a kiss on her forehead, and was out of her study in a heartbeat.

* * *

The Sheikah researcher took in the sight of the old Royal Laboratories with a dejected frown on his face. It marked out a hard line amongst his wrinkles, as did his narrowed, beady eyes. He heaved a sigh. “I suppose I’d hoped they’d be in better condition.”

“The level of destruction suggests Sheikah research was targeted directly,” Zelda mused. Another sigh from Robbie only affirmed her hypothesis. Behind them, Link stood with the Guardian that had joined Robbie on his trip from Akkala -- the one Link had named Rhoamet, after Zelda’s father. Zelda had thought it incongruous at first, but Rhoamet and his namesake shared more than she had realised; they were the last of their kind, dedicated to their Kingdom, and ultimately, compromised. Link had the Sheikah Slate in hand and was performing a diagnostic on the living relic while Zelda and Robbie conversed.

“No point rebuilding it,” Robbie grumbled. “There’s nothing left. That blasted _Seer_...”

His words caught Zelda’s attention. “The Seer?” she asked innocently. Robbie recoiled as if bitten by an asp.

“I said no such thing.”

“His name was Malachi, wasn’t it?” she said determinedly. “My father’s diary only mentions him a handful of times, but I remember him. He was Sheikah, and a mage too.”

The researcher cast his eyes over the destroyed lab, and once more became solemn. Zelda could almost feel his pain, but she had to pursue this truth. She needed it. This _Malachi_...he was one of the final mysteries of her father.

She spoke in a soft, firm voice, imploring Robbie to meet her eye. “I know you remember, Robbie and therefore you remember that it is your _duty_ to aid me here. I’m not a Princess anymore. I’m--”

“ _Your Majesty_ ,” Robbie said pointedly, almost in answer. “I have lived, for well over one hundred years now, trying to forget what that man did. I’m not even convinced he is dead.”

“Then help me put that chapter of our lives to rest.”

Robbie took a deep breath, but before he could answer, Link called out to them from Rhoamet. He held up the Sheikah Slate so that the screen faced Zelda and Robbie, his brows raised. Robbie’s face fell, then he slumped; whatever argument about to be had, he knew he could not win it.

“Rhoamet has entries in his communications log,” Link said incredulously.

“I know,” Robbie answered.

“The log is only for interactions with other automatons.”

“ _I know_ ,” Robbie repeated.

“There are no other living Guardians.”

Robbie shook his head. “Half a year ago, that was true. But not so now.”

Zelda could hardly believe the words she said next. She was caught between excitement, awe, and terror at the news; “You found _other_ living Guardians?”

“No, I...I activated them myself. Rhoamet has been inducting them, as it were.”

“You know how dangerous they are--” Zelda began.

“I _know_ , of course I know,” the old Researcher sighed once last time. His age was at last beginning to show, and he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands before he spoke. “You want to hear about Malachi? You have no idea what he took from us. I only wanted to recover... _some_ part of it.”

“Tell me everything,” Zelda said slowly. “ _Everything_ that you remember.”

Robbie looked to Rhoamet, who was sitting patiently on the grass. His mouth twitched, and for a moment he regarded the automaton with scorn, though Zelda could not discern why. Rhoamet, however, sat unaware -- he was an innocent, such was the nature of Ganon’s possession.

At last, Robbie looked back to Zelda, who was waiting with bated breath. “Words grant life to those who are better off dead,” he said. “Listen well. I will not repeat myself.”

* * *

 _One hundred and four years earlier_

_One Year Before the Calamity_  

* * *

From the mezzanine of Hyrule Castle throne room, even the tallest Knights looked small. In the early days of his reign, Rhoam recalled feeling isolated by the remote positioning of his throne. When he had asked why it was built this way, the throne high upon the balcony, his wife had been the one to tell him.

Zelda recounted the story of a Queen, another Zelda, who’d lived some five hundred years prior. This Queen disliked meeting her supplicants eye to eye. She felt their judging glares too harshly, and in cowardice, had ordered the great mezzanine built. It encompassed near half of the room, flanked on either side by a pair of winding marble staircases. This Queen made the entire _room_ her throne, and in doing so raised herself above all who would come before her.

Rhoam surveyed the gathered court and understood the way that queen had felt, though he knew, even isolated, he could never escape judgement.

His advisors stood to either side of the raised throne, while the members of the court -- nobles, Knights, the Royal Guard and various other title holders -- and the supplicants waited below. By his guess, two hundred had come to court this day. It was more than the day before, and the day before that. Each day a new record was set.

They all came for one reason. Well, _many_ reasons, but one primarily; to ask for help. 

Rhoam sat listlessly as he listened to their needs and complaints, his head resting on a balled fist. The combined heat from the crowd jammed into the surprisingly modest sized throne room made Rhoam drowsy. Twice now Spymaster Malachi had roused him with a sharp but discreet jab to the shoulder. In a last effort to remain alert, Rhoam sat forward and pinched the skin between his thumb and forefinger.

The Mayor of Hateno had travelled all the way from Necluda to report a second year of failed crops. The old man wrang his bony-fingered hands, which Rhoam noticed were adorned with a pair of curiously opulent looking gloves.

“Hylian Rice is a staple, for all of Hyrule. Another year like this and…” the Mayor trailed off, baulking at the rest. _There could be famine,_ Rhoam knew. He’d been hearing it for over a year now.

“Do you know _why_ the harvest might be failing?” Rhoam asked, but the man shrugged haplessly.

“If only the Goddess would reveal it to us,” he said. Wordlessly, like a shift in the breeze, all eyes moved to Princess Zelda, who was standing to the other side of Rhoam. She took a sharp intake of breath but otherwise showed no reaction. Rhoam waved away the suggestion.

“Focus on facts, not prayers. I want a report on any changing conditions -- the weather, your farming schedule. If so much as one seed was sowed differently, I want to know. That’s the only way we will combat this.”

The Mayor bowed hurriedly. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he wrung his hands again, and did not step back now that his turn was done.

“What is it?” Rhoam pressed.

“Well, if I may speak to _one_ aspect of change…” the man’s voice hushed with each word as if he was speaking sacrilege. Rhoam’s patience, much like his attentiveness, began to wear thin.

“ _Speak_!” he commanded, earning a startled yelp from the Mayor. He composed himself but wrung his hands tighter than before. Rhoam thought he might rip his fingers from their sockets if he kept this up.

“Your Majesty, we had trouble attracting labourers to Hateno this season, as with the last...and...you, see, it was a long winter, and we have _moblins_ in the hills now and--”

Malachi cut in then. “Speak as your king commands,” he growled.

“It’s the Sheikah!” the Mayor blurted. After that, the words came tumbling out. “You have them set up at Fort Hateno, and at that laboratory near town. It’s those...mechanical _things_ people keep talking about, and those Beasts! We can see them all from Hateno. People think Hateno is a Sheikah stronghold. They...they won’t come!”

Rhoam thought on the words for a long moment, allowing no emotion to cross his face. At his side, both Malachi and Zelda were visibly fuming 

“Do you expect us to just put the Divine Beasts back in the ground?” Malachi demanded of the Mayor.

“Well...I...I don’t--”

“Those Beasts are fundamental to Hyrule’s future. Your people will need to learn to live with their presence. This Kingdom will starve because of their superstition, have you thought of that!?”

It was the most riled up Rhoam had seen the Spymaster, and for a moment he pitied the toothless Mayor.

“Perhaps the Divine Beasts could be moved to more discreet locations,” suggested Chief Advisor Voswann, emerging forth. “I’m sure the Champions--”

“The Champions are focusing on gaining full control of their Beasts,” Zelda interjected, with all the authority of a Queen. Rhoam looked between them as they bickered.

“And when they do, Princess--” Voswann began.

“Then they must focus on preparing the defence against Calamity Ganon.”

“Surely you can understand how talk like this makes the people uneasy.”

“The truth makes us uneasy, Voswann,” Malachi cut in. “Are we really still pretending Calamity Ganon is not a threat?”

“The reasonable among us know to base their plans on evidence!” Voswann protested, casting a glance at Battlemaster Otra. “Not _prophecy.”_

In a swift, powerful motion, Rhoam stood from his throne. At once, all the advisors sprang back. The argument was done.

Rhoam turned his attention back to the still quivering Mayor. “I will send twenty of my soldiers next harvest season to aid you, and I will have Director Malachi recall the researchers in Hateno to the Castle.”

“At once, Your Majesty,” Malachi affirmed. Rhoam hoped he had not overburdened the man. A fortnight past, the old Director of Research, a Sheikah man older than even Voswann, had passed peacefully in his sleep. Malachi was made Director in the interim, for an indefinite tenure that could well last until after the Calamity.

 _After_ the Calamity. The thought had not yet presented itself to Rhoam. It felt like something that would never materialise, and Rhoam frowned at his pessimism. Had they not prepared themselves as best as possible? The taste of uncertainty was thick on his tongue, and the only remedy was to speak.

“You are dismissed,” he told the Mayor. “Call the next one.”

Another half dozen supplicants came before him following that; one from Lurelin and one from Hyrule Ridge, both complaining of monsters near their settlements.

After that, a representative from Lake Totori warning that the harsh winter had forced them to pull couriers from rotation, and that correspondence would be slow until the fullness of Spring was upon Hyrule.

Then, a pair of messengers from Gerudo, two guardswomen near identical in appearance, reporting that a band of Yiga were seen heading north through the Gerudo Highlands, likely to avoid crossing the Gerudo-controlled Digdogg Bridge. Bad news after bad news; all of it ominous. The Calamity would be soon, it had to be.

Finally, Dr Purah came to report that her attempts to activate the Shrine near Gaponga Village had been unsuccessful. Elder Soklee had given the name to the conical monoliths uncovered all throughout Hyrule, and the Sheikah researchers had many theories as to their purpose.

“I have come to ask Princess Zelda for use of the Sheikah Slate, since court is the only time we _see_ her these days,” Purah said matter-of-factly.

Zelda’s ownership of the Sheikah artefact was news to Rhoam. He cast her a disapproving glance, but she did not falter.

“My apologies -- I have been hard to work with my devotions, as I’m sure you can understand. I will have it sent to you at once.”

As she spoke, Rhoam caught sight of his daughter’s appointed knight, waiting dutifully in the crowd. He stood out on account of his cyan blue tunic -- the very one Zelda had begrudgingly made for him. She had been all too happy to make the _Champions_ ’ scarves.

With the proceedings finally over, the crowd and Rhoam’s advisors began to disperse. Before Zelda could similarly disappear, however, Rhoam pulled her aside.

“I don’t like you distracting yourself with research you are not involved in, Zelda.”

“The Sheikah Slate is a fundamental instrument,” she countered readily. “I need it if I’m to visit the Divine Beasts. I have many theories on how--”

“Your assignment is not to visit the Divine Beasts, only to coordinate the Champions, which you have managed quite well. Let the research to the researchers.”

“And what if _I_ want to research as well? Purah herself taught me. I believe some of my ideas could be worth—“

“Enough,” Rhoam hissed, incensed by her rebellion. “Stop _playing_ at being a scholar. You forget your true duty.”

Zelda glowered at him, her mouth pressed into a thin line. With a pout she said, “I’ll be leaving on the morrow for Gerudo Town, to visit Lady Urbosa.”

“So soon? You were already granted leave to visit Lord Daruk, in Eldin.”

“ _And_ I will be going to the Spring of Courage,” she added. She peered down her nose to where Sir Link stood patiently waiting for her, the Master Sword ever present at his back. “Perhaps this time, Father, I might go alone--”

“Absolutely not.”

“But--”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you, Zelda. You know why it is dangerous.”

Zelda became almost distraught and looked half ready to fall to her knees. “Then assign me a different Knight. Anyone else! I can’t stand him!”

“Good! Better you hate him than dally by falling in love!”

“ _Father!_ ”

Rhoam shook his head. He’d had enough of this. The arrival of Dr Purah seeking her Sheikah Slate was enough cue for him to leave. Without so much as a hand wave goodbye, he turned his back to Zelda and said, “Return quickly. Time is short.”

* * *

Purah repeated the phrase in her head as she traversed the long, underground tunnel between Hyrule Castle and the Royal Laboratories. Each time, it grew more and more malicious, like an unholy chant.

_Director Malachi. Director Malachi._

Ugh. Even the thought of it made her want to retch. Not that anything would come up. She had skipped breakfast again. There hadn’t been a single moment spare since supper the night before.

With the aid of her assistant Robbie, she had been inching ever closer to a major discovery. While the Shrines remained inactive, the Guidance Stones simply needed a power source -- namely the flame from the ancient Sheikah furnace. What Purah and Robbie had discovered the night prior was that the uncovered automatons, the Guardians, could also be activated merely by exposing them to that same energy source.

Doing her best to make herself presentable, Purah had gone to the Castle to retrieve the Sheikah Slate from Princess Zelda that morning. The instrument would be necessary to perform a diagnostic on the Guardians.

When she returned, Robbie was already out in the small plain surrounding the laboratories with their assigned Guardian. He had grown borderline fanatical about his research into the automatons, and for good reason. This particular Guardian had been uncovered in Lanayru and was found to be blinking somehow, it’s single beady eye _communicating_ something, only neither Purah nor Robbie had yet figured it out.

Even all of this distraction could not excise from Purah’s mind who now _led_ her research. The Spymaster. That interloper who had betrayed her mother’s orders and returned to Hyrule. She was ready to whine about it all to Robbie when to the west, they caught sight of Divine Beast Vah Medoh triumphantly launching itself from the spire of Lake Totori. Glad to see that the Champion Revali was making progress, Purah found her dour mood subdued, even just a little. The researchers watched the Beast’s flight together while their Guardian waited patiently behind them, then returned to the task at hand.

While Robbie noted the Guardian’s movements and reactions to stimuli, Purah commandeered the Sheikah Slate to perform the analysis. A diagnostic of the Guardian produced a host of data -- its serial number, inner workings, status and, curiously, a communications log.

“Robbie, come look at this,” Purah waved him, having spotted something on the log. She pointed to the pattern of dots and dashes. “Is that--?”

“Sheikah Code!” Robbie gasped. He looked at the Guardian with a grin wider than the Hylia River. “You can speak!”

The Guardian blinked a few times, and Robbie approached, watching it intently. “Come again?” he said.

The Guardian blinked again. Robbie copied the pattern down, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

There was movement behind them -- the sound of boots gently shuffling across the grass, and the murmur of voices. Purah stiffened. She recognised the slimy tones immediately. Who else, but the very Director she had been dreading seeing.

“Ah -- looks like our dedicated researchers have anticipated our arrival,” he crooned.

Purah turned and felt her stomach lurch. Behind Lord Malachi were a retinue of soldiers, as well as Purah’s younger sister. Now that Princess Zelda was nearly a grown woman, with her own appointed Knight to boot, Impa’s duties as her attendant were less. She had been allowed to take up an apprenticeship with Lord Malachi, something Impa did more to keep an eye on him than learn his trade. Purah glowered at them in seething silence, and Malachi returned the gaze.

“Y-E-S,” announced Robbie. “If I remember the code correctly. We haven’t used it since we were children, but I think that’s right. Purah, look! Purah?”

Robbie fell silent as he saw who had gathered behind them.

Affecting a smile, Malachi turned back to his retinue. “As you can see here, the Guardian Stalkers are very sophisticated. But, they _are_ dangerous, so when we move them, we must take extra care.

“Move!?” Purah cried in unison with Robbie. Impa was unable to give them anything more a  mouthed, _I’m sorry_.

“Indeed,” Malachi said, spinning on his heel back towards the researchers. His outward pleasantness evaporated, and with a threatening glare he said, “We’ll be relocating yourself and the Guardians to the Castle.”

He waved his hand, and the soldiers set to work at once, marching into the laboratories.

“But what about the other relics? Are we moving those?” Purah asked, watching in horror as the soldiers entered _her_ laboratory.

“No,” Malachi answered immediately. “You will focus solely on the Guardians.”

“Director, with respect, I am not a weapons specialist. My work is here.”

Malachi’s face darkened. He approached, his tall figure casting a shadow over Purah and Robbie both. “Need I remind you we are facing an _imminent_ Calamity.”

“But all of it could be important! What if the Shrines were made to aid the Hero? Or the Slate?” Purah argued, refusing to be intimidated, though her hands did shake. “We already know it is fundamental to controlling the Divine Beasts--”

“Dr Purah, will I tell the king how you stood in the way of our preparations?”

Purah scoffed. “You cannot--”

Reaching down to pry the Sheikah Slate from Purah’s hands, Malachi crouched so that their eyes were level, and whispered. “Yes, I can.”

“You _traitor_.”

“Sister! Enough!”

Still waiting behind the Director, Impa shook her head. Purah knew better than to argue with her sister. The truth was evident, pure and plain. There was nothing to be done.

Soon, Malachi’s retinue began to emerge from the Laboratories, boxes of relics in their hands and incensed researchers on their heels. In the boxes, Purah saw swords, and shields, all giving off a consistent, cyan glow. They were taking the Sheikah weapons, she realised, and Goddess only knew what for.

When Malachi finally departed, after all but gutting the laboratories, Purah, Impa and Robbie sat on the grass by their Guardian. They were expected to deliver it to the Castle in exactly one hour, and resume their work there.

“Perhaps we should lighten up,” Robbie offered. “The Guardians _are_ important. And Director Malachi hasn’t actually done anything wrong.”

Purah glared so hard at Robbie that she felt her eyes burn. Impa merely sighed.

“What?” Robbie whined. “It’s been sixteen years! He sold us out to the Yiga _once_ \--”

“Will you listen to yourself?” Purah snapped. She leapt to her feet, restless from her unletted anger. “You’re under his spell just like the King!”

“What is he going to do? Stage a coup?” Robbie challenged, and Impa gave an authoritative, “ _No_.”

Purah crossed her arms indignantly and said to her sister. “You’re the Know-It-All. What _will_ he do?”

Impa rose to her feet, gathering her long silver hair into a tight braid as she spoke. “I don’t know. But we need a plan.”

“For the Calamity?” Purah pressed.

“For everything.”

* * *

Gatepost Town had always struck Princess Zelda as unusually small, given where it was. The village sat at a fork in the road, and all traffic moving from Lanayru and Necluda to Gerudo passed it by. There was even a garrison nearby, yet Gatepost Town contained no more than a handful of homes and a single, run-down inn.

Rubbing the pink from her fingers, Zelda waited for the innkeeper to return with her request. By the way he scurried about -- clattering through his crockery, striking his flint, fishing Hyrule Herb tea leaves from an ancient and spotted tin -- one might have thought he was serving the Goddess herself. When he was done, he produced a kettle full of hot tea, and two ceramic mugs. Zelda paid him likely more than needed, and he stuttered through a thank you, bowing his head in reverence.  The exchange was a familiar one, though Zelda still disliked it.

With a sigh in each step, Zelda climbed the stairs up to the boarding rooms and tapped gently on one of the doors with the toe of her boot. The door opened a slither, and a single, blue eye framed by ash blonde hair came into view. Link’s glare was intense, interrogative, but softened when he saw her. He opened the door and bowed.

“Don’t,” Zelda said curtly, handing him his tea. It was a peace offering. An acknowledgement of something she had been resisting; Link was now a necessary part of her life.

He cupped the empty mug with both hands, looking between it and Zelda with a bemused expression. Zelda swallowed.

“Come sit with me,” she said, the word more an order than an invitation. “Hyrule Herb is a cure-all.”

Link raised a sceptical brow but acquiesced to follow down from the boarding rooms to the veranda of the measly inn. They sat side by side on some rotting wooden chairs. A light, misty rain began to fall. Princess and Knight sipped their tea in silence.

“How does your shoulder feel?” Zelda asked eventually. The Knight shrugged out of habit and immediately winced.

“Sore,” he answered.

The memory was still fresh, images coming thick and fast like a flock of birds at wing. Two Yiga, with their curved blades; Link, with his sacred one. Zelda had refused to look away, but there was no need. Link would not kill either Yiga, even when given the opportunity. Even when one landed a bruising blow to his shoulder with the hilt of their scythe. He’d never cried out, only turned, pivoting faster than Zelda knew men could move, and the Yiga were soon vanishing in a puff of red smoke.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Zelda said quietly, arising from her thoughts.

Link paused before he spoke, watching the rainfall. “My job is to--”

“I meant, you didn’t have to spare them. They were enemies of the crown.”

“They’re people.” Link looked down into his tea. “And...my job is to protect you. Not…”

 _Kill people?_ Zelda was sure every Knight in Hyrule would savour killing a Yiga. But not this one. Zelda thought to comfort him. She looked at his hands; they too were pink from the cold, but they did not shake. There was a stillness to Link that made him appear statuesque. Timeless, like he could live in any age.

“Thank you,” Zelda murmured. “And...my apologies. Your job can’t very be interesting.”

His lips pricked upwards. “I like being away from the Castle.”

“If my father had his way, I’d never leave.”

"My father is the same.”

“So I heard. Didn’t Lord Otra have to sneak you across the river, just to get that sword?”

“Would your father let you go? After what happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m a person to him, or just another part of a prophecy,” Zelda looked down into her own teacup, ready to feel awfully sorry for herself. But then she remembered why she even had this tea at all, and how much Link had endured up until this point. Near fifty men had _died_ because he found the so-called Sword that Seals the Darkness. And not two days ago, he had fought a pair of vicious Yiga, for what? An insolent little Princess.

“Your father is Sir Micah, isn’t he?” Zelda asked, changing the subject. “He served during my mother’s reign. I suppose your being a Knight only makes sense, with someone like that to teach you.”

Link nodded but had nothing more to add. He drained his cup, wiping his mouth on his patterned arm wrappings. Zelda felt her stomach sinking; talk of his father seemed only to worsen the mood.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk. It’s rude of me to pry,” she muttered. To her surprise, Link turned to look at her. When he held her gaze Zelda seised. He could have kept her there all evening.

“Was your mother a seamstress?” he asked, and Zelda nearly gasped from relief.

“I-It was a hobby, one she taught me,” she stammered. “Why do you ask?”

“This tunic,” Link pointed to his chest, and his eyes went wide as if in awe. “ _Really_ comfortable. Strong too. Hasn’t torn once.”

Zelda couldn’t help but grin madly. “Really? I had Purah help me. We discovered that Silent Princess nectar does _something_ to the dye. It triples the fabric strength! But I had to be conservative, the flowers are rare, so I’m glad it isn’t tight! Oh!” she clapped a hand to her mouth and felt herself redden. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble.”

Link just smiled at her, his cheeks full. Zelda felt herself smiling back, until she suddenly became shy, of _all_ things. She’d lost track of herself, that was all. She couldn’t possibly _enjoy_ his company. Link was everything Zelda both feared and envied, and yet... Something about the calm of him, it soothed her troubled mind.

The rain began to ease, but Zelda willed it to pour. She looked to the fork in the road, and caught sight of Vah Rudania in the far distance, lumbering around Death Mountain.

She pointed to the fork. “I told my father I was going to the Spring of Courage. The far path there will take us south.”

Link raised his brows, the meaning clear; _But_...

“But; the near path north leads us to where more Shrines have been spotted. I just… I just want some more time before I recommit myself to my powers. A few weeks, maybe months...”

The growing excitement on Link’s face then served only to embolden her. Zelda sensed its rarity, and seeing it again made her feel blessed by good omen. Link placed his finished mug on the ground and stood, offering out a hand.

“What is it?” Zelda asked.

“You should turn in, Princess. You’ll need a good night’s sleep.”

Zelda merely blinked up at him, so he clarified, “The journey north will be a long one.”

Giddy with anticipation, Zelda took his hand.

* * *

_Like clockwork, the Kingdom moves. Each day another tick._

_Champions work to master their Beasts. Rito succeeds first, then Zora, then Gerudo and Goron. In their respective corners, they are almost ready. The days tick down._

_The Princess and her appointed Knight begin their grand adventure of defiance; first to the Rauru Hillside, then back to Eldin, then to Zora’s Domain. Their friendship grows like the flowers of Spring around them. The days tick down._

_Carts by the dozen traverse the roads of Hyrule. Desperation keeps trade alive. Even without a strong harvest, the people must eat. Fish crosses the land from Lanayru, rice from Necluda, wheat from Tabantha. But it isn’t enough. The days tick down._

_And deep below the ground, waiting for that signal, waiting as it has waited since time immemorial -- Calamity looms._

_And the days tick down._

* * *

Were Hyrule Castle a living being, the underground walkways would be its arteries and veins, and the cavernous docks its very beating heart. 

Here, amongst the voracious throng -- dock workers loading and unloading cargo, ferrymen mooring their ships, merchants hovering anxiously over their wares -- Rhoam found he could walk undisturbed. Unnoticed even. It was wonderfully refreshing.

This day the docks were extra busy. A grand operation was underway, by Rhoam’s design. After the failed harvest, the stores of Hyrule Castle had been half-emptied, and the residents of Castle Town had been ordered to donate what they could. That certainly silenced those pink-nosed nobles, with their judgemental sneers. How many of them knew anything about famine? How many of them had protected anything but their own coffers, let alone a Kingdom?

Half the Royal Fleet was to depart before noon in a desperate attempt to keep the Kingdom fed. However, the flagship, the _Queen’s Honour_ , would be ferrying more than just grains. It would be ferrying the Princess.

After two months away, Zelda had returned with bad news; her powers were _still_ unawoken, and she hadn’t even _been_ to the Spring of Courage. She claimed to have simply _lost her way_ , and returned home to recoup, but not before a reckless detour across what seemed like half of Hyrule!

The revelation had driven Rhoam into a rage and sent the gossip-mongers crazy. They called her _Princess Absentia_. Zelda had wasted precious time frolicking across the Kingdom -- _his_ Kingdom -- and Sir Link never once attempted to set her back on the right path. Spraying spittle in his fury, Rhoam had ordered them both to board the _Queens Honour_ and sail directly south for Faron, demanding they not return until Zelda visited the Spring.

Rhoam approached the _Queen’s Honour_ , an enormous, elegantly-made vessel powered two dozen oarsmen. Waiting by its bow on the long jetty, silvery hair and white vestments making him beacon-like, was Lord Malachi. He stood in the very centre of the pier, yet none of the workers passing by noticed him, or even bumped into him. Perhaps they did not see him. Malachi was a mage of the powerful textile class, the kind that manifested as a _unique_ relationship within space and time. The Yiga were well known to use it, for teleportation, and the Seers too for their visions. Perhaps Malachi wielded both aspects -- though he did not flaunt it. Rhoam’s Advisors would have exiled him in earnest should he have chosen to.

Malachi was staring at the ship with a fierce intensity, but that melted away when he caught sight of the king. “I was told to find you here, I have come only to give you a small progress report, Your Majesty,” he said, raising his voice above the rabble.

“No need for such formality, Malachi. Speak freely.”

As Malachi prepared his words, Rhoam noticed he looked weathered; his usually cropped white hair had been left to grow, his ageless eyes were dark with bags, and even his staple white cloak seemed askew. His work had been tireless.

“The Sheikah Slate we recovered from the Royal Laboratories was the key to our success. The Guardians are almost under our control,” Malachi reported. He patted the Sheikah Slate resting at his hip.

“Good, good news,” Rhoam said, careful not to betray just how relieved the words made him feel. It was the first good news in a long while. “By the Goddess’ grace, this will all be over soon.”

Malachi laughed and clapped him on the back. “Do not trouble yourself, Rhoam. All is as it should be.” He looked back up to the ship, where _Queen’s Honour_ was painted in neat black letters. A small scowl formed on his features. “This operation, however, I feel it unnecessary.”

“I must placate the other villages,” Rhoam sighed. “I cannot rule Castle Town alone.”

Malachi did not seem convinced, but he said nothing. Instead, he looked back to Rhoam and smiled. His warmth only served to deepen the pit in Rhoam’s stomach. He sensed the operation was doomed, though he knew not how. The looming fear swelled within him, and Rhoam could not keep from speaking. Who better to unburden himself to than Malachi?

“Why does it feel like everything I do is...never enough? I failed at everything except uncovering the Divine Beasts, and when I succeeded at that, I failed at all else. Those cards you showed me. The next one is the Tower. A _burning_ tower.”

“Inevitable. Inescapable, yes. But _after_ the Tower--”

“The Sun, yes I know,” Rhoam said, unnerved by Malachi’s conviction. “Is there really no other path? We’ve been following those cards for sixteen years and yet...it feels like it will never end. Why must Hyrule be like this?”

Malachi regarded him still with a sagely calm, and then chuckled to himself as if remembering some old, private joke. “Hyrule is a strange place, is it not? It has no history, only legends. It has no true heroes, only colossi who have wielded its fate in their hands. And yet, we are always either recovering from war or preparing for it. But the end _is_ near, I assure you. The Divine Beasts -- their power is the Sun, and they will defeat the Calamity.”

“And the Shrines, the rest of the relics?”

“Unimportant.”

“But--”

“Shrines cannot defeat the Calamity, this Sheikah Slate will not defeat the Calamity. Power is what we need, and power is what we have!”

Rhoam found himself not completely convinced, but did not wish to argue. If anyone knew what to do in the face of the Calamity, it was Malachi.

In the corner of his vision, Rhoam saw a trio of figures approach. Malachi swivelled on his heel to greet them. “Princess! Hero! Just on time! And...Lady Impa. A pleasure.”

Standing at the edge of the jetty, all three youths wore a sombre expression, Princess Zelda especially so. “My apologies, Father,” she said. “Sir Link cannot accompany me. His father is ...quite unwell, and Battlemaster Otra has given him leave to remain here. I am bringing Impa to escort me instead.”

Her concern seemed genuine, and Rhoam was entirely unsure what to make of it. He expected her to be overjoyed at being free of the boy, but instead, she was _mournful_.

Malachi was equally displeased. “Link’s duty is to you, Princess, as Impa’s duty is to _me_.”

Neither Zelda nor Link spoke; only Impa stood in defiance. “I am her attendant first, and your apprentice second, Malachi--”

“ _Director_ Malachi,” he corrected.

“Of course,” Impa said icily.

“Lady Impa will go with the Princess, it is common sense,” Rhoam cut in. Bickering between the Sheikah would not do. He could not stand it. Fighting the urge to bury his face in his hands, Rhoam nodded for Malachi to follow, and marched along the jetty, straight past the stone-faced Link and Zelda. He would speak to them when they returned successful -- _only_ if they returned successful.

For now, there was work to do. “Come, Malachi,” he said, not noticing the duo of Sheikah researchers watching his departure. “I wish to see the progress that has been made.”

* * *

Once the king and Lord Malachi were gone from view, Purah closed her eyes and counted to ten. Just to be sure. Once she was done, she nudged Robbie in the ribs so hard that he gave a yelp. “Move!” she hissed. 

With a scowl, her research assistant grabbed up the crate they had brought, and they hurried from their hiding spot down to the jetty. Finding Impa with the Princess and Sir Link was not difficult; they were vibrant against the mass of workers on the docks.

“Let’s set sail and be done with this,” Purah huffed as they approached. It would not do to dawdle where they could so easily be spotted.

“Purah!” the Princess gasped. “Rob--”

Impa shushed her with a flat hand on her arm, pulling her in close to whisper, “They are not here. You did not see them. Do you understand?”

Zelda motioned to the crate in Robbie’s arms. “Nor that?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Robbie grinned. “It’s a crate full of grain, Princess, nothing more. Definitely not any potential research papers smuggled from some hypothetical lab!”

Purah slapped him on the shoulder. “That hypothetical is my life’s work! Look after it!” Absurdly, Robbie stuck out his tongue at her, and said, “Might be I’ll drop it into the river if I’m not treated well.”

“You two make me forget that I’m the youngest,” Impa scolded. Seething, Purah decided to hold her tongue. It would not do to be found out. She shot Robbie an apologetic half-smile but would do no more than that.

Meanwhile, the Princess and her appointed Knight were at their own silent standoff, navigating the right way to say their farewells. It made Purah feel a little sick, the modesties of the young and smitten.

At last, Zelda spoke. “Y-You can take leave, for as long as you want. Even if I return early.”

The Knight nodded, his eyes plastered to the toe of his boots. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be. Your rest is earned, Sir Link. Look after your father, I’m--” her voice broke. “I’m sure he needs you.”

The exchange amused Purah as much as it bemused her. Hadn’t the Princess disliked her Knight? That was what Impa had told her some months ago…

Impa placed a hand on the Princess’ back to lead her aboard; it was time to go. Purah looked back over her shoulder as she hurried followed the others aboard, but the Knight was already gone.

The journey was only two nights, with Impa and Zelda staying on for a third and fourth. Naturally, Purah and Robbie had not booked a cabin, being stowaways (or as Impa had explained to the Captain, _emergency assistants_ ), and so they all crammed into one tiny room with only two beds. Under any other circumstance, she would never have agreed to such conditions, but her life’s work truly was on the line. They had to secure it in Kakariko before Malachi could reach it.

Leaving their travel wares and the crate in the cabin, the Sheikah accompanied  the Princess to the deck. The _Queen’s Honour_ soon began the lumbering glide south along the Hylia River, towards Lake Hylia, with half of the royal fleet trailing behind. Thankfully the ship was not crowded since it was carrying freight rather than passengers. The deck was mostly empty, save the ship workers and a handful of travellers; the gentle breeze and rolling sound of waves below soon lulled Purah into a state of calm.

Zelda tried to pry for the reason the researchers were tagging along, but received no answer.

“I will tell you once we reach Faron, Princess,” Impa assured her. “It isn’t safe to speak of here.”

“Is something the matter?” the Princess asked nervously. Robbie elbowed her gently in the shoulder.

“The Sheikah are infamous for sneaking around, this shouldn’t surprise you!”

At that, Zelda giggled. “Sometimes I wish I could be sneaky and go around unnoticed.”

“We ought to get you some Sheikah gear then,” Robbie suggested. “I’ll give Aunt Soklee your measurements next time I see her.”

Purah only half-listened to their conversation as she watched the sloping hills beyond the river bank. Dusk fell quickly, bathing Central Hyrule in a soft red glow.

The _Queens Honour_ passed under one bridge, and then a second, as Purah companions continued their conversation. She considered turning in when something in the distance caught her attention. They were approaching the Applean Forest. The trees were dense but bare from the Winter, and amongst them, Purah spotted movement and light. Pinpricks of blue seeming to hover mid-air, held by shadowed figures. Leaning over the railing, she focused and squinted. Yes, there was indeed movement, and with each passing moment it became clearer, the lights larger. Suddenly anxious, Purah turned to her companions.

“Impa, Robbie,” she said, interrupting Robbie mid-tirade. “Do you see that?”

Her grave tone must have gotten through to them, for the other Sheikah immediately followed her line of sight to the forest.

“You need to get your spectacles checked,” Robbie teased, but Impa seemed to see something too. She scanned the nearing forest with narrowed eyes.

“Those are either Sheikah or--”

A rallying cry erupted from the forest; a long, whooping call that Purah knew to only mean one thing.

“ _YIGA!_ ” Impa shouted.

With a final cry, the Yiga disappeared from the forest in a wave of red puffs, reappearing on the ship deck an instant later. In reaction, Impa wrenched the Princess in close and with her free hand she drew her dagger. Robbie similarly reached for Purah, whimpering as he clung to her for his life.

“Protect your Princess,” Impa ordered, but the ship workers had scrambled. They were easy prey for the Yiga, who cut through them like butter. Purah saw the weapons they wielded and nearly fell to her knees in shock. The blades glowed a brilliant blue, and pulsated with ancient energy.

“Sheikah weapons!” she cried. “Those are Sheikah weapons! Impa!”

Her elder sister still had the Princess in hand and was fending off the converging Yiga. Around them, the deck had descended into chaos. The Sheikah pressed in close, back to back, as the Yiga began to converge upon them. Smoke was filling the air, pouring out from below.

“There’s too many, we need to go!” Impa shouted, managing to gut an advancing Yiga with her dagger. The Princess shrieked, her travel clothes sprayed with the blood. Purah felt Robbie pulling on her arm, dragging her away, but she could not move. She was fixated on the entryway into the cabins. It was now ablaze.

“Purah! Now!” came Robbie’s exasperated plea. He dug in his nails, trying to get her to move.

“I can’t--” she protested. “My work, the crate! It’s still inside.”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It’s my work! He won’t take it! He won’t!”

The horrible truth had dawned on her. The Sheikah weapons...they had been taken by Malachi. This attack...it was _him_.

A group of Yiga spotted them, and they charged across the deck. Purah did not see the attackers, consumed by the need to free herself from Robbie’s grip. She had to save the crate. She would _die_ rather than lose it.

At the last moment, Purah noticed the advancing Yiga, brandishing their stolen weapons. She screamed, but was cut off when someone seized her by the collar and dragged her across the deck. She kicked furiously, fighting to keep her footing. Breaking free, she saw that it was her own sister pulling her to safety, the Princess still in her other arm. Purah reached forward, and she and Impa interlocked hands, sharing the briefest of glances. Robbie was at her other side, a hand still wrapped around her shoulder. They clambered together towards the railing of the ship. The intention was clear.

“Hold on!” Impa shouted.

There was no time to close her eyes. Purah tightened her grip on her sister. They burst through the burning railing and tumbled from the ship towards the black waters below.

* * *

The High Priest of Hyrule was reciting his fifth prayer for the dusk-light ceremony.

Rhoam would not normally come to Hyrule Cathedral, with its cold stone walls, blank-faced Goddess statue, and empty, stale air. But he needed somewhere empty, lest the thoughts burning in his mind crush him for lack of escape.

He had tried to keep calm, hoping the revered place would placate him. But not so. He felt the history of this place in the very stones below his feet. The very thought of seeing it destroyed almost left him gasping for air.

Only a few other worshippers had come this evening; Chief Advisor Voswann, Lord Malachi, and a handful of nobles and commoners. They bowed when Rhoam entered, and he had half a mind to dismiss them all so he might be alone with his thoughts.

As the High Priest finished his sixth recitation, Rhoam was just beginning to feel somewhat calm. And so, right on cue, the doors of the cathedral burst open. Gasps filled the high hall; a trio of Sheikah, each with their clothes soaked through, strumbled together inside. With horror, Rhoam realised it was Impa, Purah and Robbie.

“What are you doing here?” Malachi barked, meeting the Sheikah youths in the middle of the room. Impa drew a radiant blue sword from her belt and held to his face. Malachi lurched backwards with a cry of alarm.

“Sheikah weapons!” Impa shouted, holding the glowing blade high. “Ask any of your researchers. Lord Malachi seized them all two weeks past. He is the only one who could have armed them!”

“What are you talking about?” Rhoam demanded.

Impa’s face fell. “You don’t yet know?”

“ _What are you talking about!?_ ”

Purah pointed to the east. “Go see for yourself, Your Majesty. The Yiga have burnt your fleet and nearly killed your Princess, all because of _him_!” she cast her finger onto Malachi, but Rhoam did not wait to see the Spymaster’s reaction. He barreled out of the cathedral, and immediately smelled smoke. Some way across Hyrule Field, just beyond the Applean forest, a vast plume was rising into the air, tinged red by the flames below.

A great, guttural sound escaped him. It was too much. It was inevitable, inescapable; the destruction of his Kingdom. Rhoam howled, his pain liberated at last, as in the helpless distance, half of the Royal Fleet burned.

Footsteps gathered behind him; those inside the cathedral had come out to see. Some cried out, some said nothing at all.

Rhoam turned back to the Sheikah -- the youths, _and_ Malachi. “Where is the Princess!?” he demanded, near-rabid.

“Taken to the infirmary,” Impa answered. Behind her, Malachi appeared wholly unaffected by the unfolding disaster.

“Tell me what happened, then,” Rhoam said, bracing himself.

Impa explained it succinctly, brutally even. Yiga wielding Sheikah weapons had descended upon the fleet making its way down the river, setting it alight. The entire time she spoke, Purah and Robbie regarded Malachi with disgust.

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” Purah finally implored him. “We have proof you orchestrated this.”

Malachi took a deep breath, pressing his lips together. He shrugged. “I do not deny it.”

“You...you _admit_ to it?” Rhoam breathed. He approached Malachi, meeting him eye to eye, but the Sheikah did not cower.

“I employed the Yiga to attack the ships. Fearful, the people would then consolidate themselves to Central Hyrule. We could feed them all, rather than wasting resources in transport.”

“Did you also employ the Yiga to burn my fleet!?” Rhoam seethed.

“Well, no. But I did not rule it out,” Malachi sighed. He gave Impa and Purah an embittered look. “I suppose I did not expect these stowaways!”

“But… the Princess…” Rhoam’s voice fell to a whisper. “You _knew_ she would be on that ship! Zelda was nearly killed!”

Malachi grew indignant at that. “I _assumed_ her Knight would be with her, to protect her as Lady Impa so gracefully did. And in any case, the Kingdom is at stake here, Rhoam. One little girl--”

The words exploded from him. “She is _my daughter!_ ”

“A useless ruler who cannot in any way aid Hyrule,” Malachi narrowed his eyes. “Yes, she is _your_ daught--”

 _Thwack!_ Rhoam moved without thought. He cut Malachi off mid-sentence with a fierce right hook that sent the Sheikah stumbling to the ground. He sprung back in an instant, cupping his split lip and scowling like an offended cat.

“How dare you--” he began.

“Begone,” Rhoam snapped.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, begone!”

“You cannot--”

“I can. I will.” Rhoam backed away to regard Malachi in his entirety. He would see him completely now, in his true form. “I should have done this years ago, I should never have let you return.”

“I have helped you _save_ your Kingdom!” Malachi insisted.

“My Kingdom is in chaos and starving to death, all because of you! I upturned it based on _your_ prophecy, and yet... you were nothing but a snake!”

Malachi threw open his hands; a final challenge. He spoke in his infamous, honeyed tones, but they were as bitter as pitch.

“I was always as you see me now. I never hid who, or what, I was. And I always did what I thought was best. I can see my efforts were waylaid.” He unhooked the Sheikah Slate at his belt, and tossed it to the ground. “You have only yourself to blame, _Hyrule King_. I wonder how much longer you will hold that title!”

“Get out of my Kingdom!” Rhoam roared. “If you refuse I will have you hunted down. I’ve killed worse monsters than you!”

With a final sneer, Malachi lifted his cloak to his face. He closed his eyes to focus, and there was a puff of smoke. When Malachi let his cloak fall, it was empty.

The fortune teller was gone.

How far he had travelled, or where to, Rhoam could not know. He had been a mage after all...for better, and for worse.

All around him, the spectators gawped at the empty white cloak. Even the Sheikah were catatonic. Young Purah was the first to step forward, picking up the abandoned Sheikah Slate, and shaking it free of dirt.

“How could you let this happen?” she whispered. “Mother warned you, again, and again.”

Rhoam could hardly speak. He met her red eyes and saw that they were full of tears. It was enough to break him. He keeled over, collapsing onto his hands and knees.

“I always did... what was best…” he murmured. “I always… I thought I knew, what was best for us...”

“You think you know what’s best?” Purah spluttered. “Letting this miscreant into our home! _You_ who were a stranger to our people, _you_ who were never meant to be king!”

“Purah!” Impa shouted, but she was already done. She returned to her sister’s side, sobbing quietly, and the trio of Sheikah prepared to leave. Wobbling, chest heaving, Rhoam forced himself to stand. This was but a setback, an obstacle to the peace he knew was on the horizon. The Tower was yet to come, and Rhoam refused to be broken.

“If you tell anyone of what happened here, I will kill you,” he told the watching crowd. “Do you understand me? That goes for all of you.” He singled out the Sheikah, and they nodded in understanding. Rhoam then ordered over Chief Advisor Voswann, noting that the man was _smiling_ , vindicated by what he had witnessed.

“When the Princess wakes, ensure she does not re-acquire the Sheikah Slate. Her work with the Divine Beasts ends _today_.”

“A sound move,” Voswann affirmed. He gestured for them to take the road leading back to Hyrule Castle. “The Princess will be in the infirmary by now, would you wish to go see her?”

By the Sheikah’s accounts, Zelda was not badly hurt. Only shaken, and chilled from the waters. Rhoam shook his head. Of all his fears, she had become his greatest. “No, no, no, no,” he muttered. “There’s work to do. No, I can’t face her…”

Standing somehow triumphant, Rhoam led the long walk home.

* * *

Darkness swirled around her; cold fingers dug into her skin, her bones. Red faces, high screeches into the night air. And then, the plunge.

Zelda woke with a whimper, encased in darkness still. For a moment she was in a panic, her head swimming with sensations she did not understand. But it subsided, and she was left, bruised, but not broken, in an infirmary bed. Sitting on the floor beside it was Link, snoozing with his head resting against the wall. Zelda smiled. She was home. She was safe.

“Link,” she whispered, and he woke immediately, a hand reaching instinctively for his sword. When he saw her, he relaxed.

“I will tell them you’re awake--”

“No, Link, wait--” Zelda reached out and grasped his hand. The warmth blossomed against her skin, and not a second later, she snatched her hand away.

“What happened?” she asked meekly. “I...I can’t remember…”

For a long moment, Link struggled to find something to say. “I should have been there…” he finally said, anger in his voice. “I should _kill_ that--”

She retook his hand. This time she did not let go. “You’re here now. We still haven’t made it to the Spring of Courage, have we? Will you take me when I’m better?”

The rest was on her tongue, but Zelda could not say it. _I need you with me_.

Gently, Link pulled his hands away from hers, but said, “I go where you go, Princess.”

It was enough for now. Zelda lay back down and fell into a blissful slumber.

* * *

  _One Hundred and Four Years Later_

* * *

By the time Robbie had retold his story, noon was upon them. It made the waters of the Hylia River between the Castle and the Royal Laboratory ruins glisten. To think such a tragedy had occurred on those very waters, and yet it was completely absent from Zelda’s mind…

“I’m surprised you don’t remember the attack, Your Majesty,” Robbie commented.

“I knew I was there, but little else. No one would speak of it. Not even Impa. Father never even wrote of it in his diary.” Zelda could not look away from the river.

“So...what happened to him?” Link piped up. The ominous tale had had him engrossed. “He just disappeared?”

“Mages will do that,” Robbie drawled. It was clear that nobody could know where Malachi had gone, or where he had ended up. The thought that he might yet live sent a shiver down Zelda’s spine.

“None of it makes any sense. Malachi was _friendly_. He worked for my father for eight years and then just like that, he betrays him. _Why_?”

“Naturally, I have a theory,” Robbie said with a rueful smile. Both Link and Zelda leaned in closer. “Malachi was a Seer, no doubt. His visions were genuine. But...he was wholly uninterested with anything other than the Guardians and the Divine Beasts. And he staged the attack knowing, or assuming, that you two would be on that boat. He gave the Yiga _Sheikah_ weapons, well beyond what was needed. Plainly, he wanted you dead. I considered then -- that which he sought to preserve, what did it have in common?”

Link’s answer was immediate. “It could be possessed.”

Robbie snapped his fingers with pride. “Precisely! Well done, you _are_ my apprentice.”

But Zelda was yet to grasp their meaning. “Wait-- he couldn’t have been--”

“Malachi was being manipulated by Ganon. It is the only theory that makes sense,” Robbie explained. “Seers are given windows through the world that others are not. He could have heard voices that he interpreted as divine advice. Advice that told him to position the Divine Beasts and Guardians right where Ganon would need them, all while believing he was doing the Goddess’s work.”

“No one would believe it, or could have guessed it…” Link murmured, nodding as if impressed.

Zelda looked at the Guardian sitting beside her and placed her right hand on his shell. She drew her legs in close to her chest, feeling vulnerable, and violated.

“Even back then, we thought Ganon was a myth, but his influence never faded…” Feeling a surge of determination within her, Zelda looked at the blank space on her hand where the golden symbol of Hyrule had once been. “And maybe it never will.”

 _Did I make the right choice?_ She wondered. The test would come soon enough. Zelda could ignore the problem of her powers no longer.

Robbie look again at the rubble-filled field where his laboratory had once been. “I only wish some of what we had done survived. Malachi took it all, in the end.”

“He didn’t take this,” Zelda said, rapping Rhoamet’s shell with her knuckles. The automaton’s head whirred to face her, and if shifted gently away, blinking at her. Link translated, and began to chuckle.

“He says, _Don’t_.”

“What, is he ticklish?” Zelda shot back. Ignoring Link as he rolled his eyes, she knelt before Robbie, meeting his eye. “Malachi didn’t take any of us, or your people, _or_ your ability to work.”

“No, Zelda, no he did not,” Robbie conceded. When at last he smiled, Zelda saw the youthful face of a spirited researcher, as he had been those one hundred years ago. How gracious was the Goddess, to let her see it again. How gracious was she to give Zelda the opportunity to see so many things once more.

“I want to re-establish these laboratories, “ she told Robbie and Link both. “And not just for the Sheikah. Perhaps, a place of higher learning, like the Hyrulean Academy, but for scholars. When Ganon returns -- and he will return -- our Kingdom will not stand unprepared.”

Robbie needed little convincing. “Excellent. I will write to Purah at once, though she may be hesitant to leave Hateno, given her...condition.”

“Well, tell her I will name her Director, ” Zelda suggested knowingly.

Robbie grinned. “Oh, that will do it. She might even rebuild the laboratories herself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for reading everyone! Extended notes will go up in a few hours on my tumblr :)


	8. Rhoam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](rachaeltad-writes.tumblr.com)

_At every turn, I had a choice. Even when it felt that I had none. I have always been entirely in control and therefore, entirely responsible._

_\- King Rhoam's Diary, Entry #554_

* * *

To an outsider, Hyrule Castle would appear entirely still in the morning; its grand walls and high towers unmoving, unyielding, and seemingly holding not a soul within. But to the residents of the castle, most rising before dawn, its life was in every wall and window. It was in the stoking of fires, the pulling back of curtains, the lighting of stoves. It was in the notes passed between messengers, in the orders for repairs, in the pauses to look at the portraits on the walls. The truth of things is often hidden just below the surface, where strangers cannot see it.

This morning, however, was the very opposite of quiet in Hyrule Castle, though half of the staff had been given a day off. Only those necessary - the cooks and the guards, and the Priestess of course - were needed. For the rest, it was a time for celebration.

And for Queen Zelda, it was a time for preparation. Her chambers have been seconded, with her sat precisely in the middle. Chief Advisor Larella had all but ordered her to relax, but Zelda could have found more peace of mind in dancing on hot coals. Was it normal, to be this nervous? It was just a wedding.

The only thing keeping her in place were the skilled hands of Chief Riju, braiding and weaving Zelda's hair but never once pulling harder than needed. Lady Riju was not her only assistant, however; Saki was assigned to manage the gown and garments, Larella any external matters (mostly keeping time), and Lady Adelina the needed moral support. Zelda tried to savour being doted on so, realising that this respite might be the last until her retirement, were it to ever truly come.

_I would need a child for that_ , Zelda thought. Instinctively, a hand went to her stomach. She tried to imagine herself as a mother, raising a son or… a daughter. She was momentarily stricken with a horrible ominous feeling. What kind of mother would she be? What kind could she be, having never had one of her own?

Lady Adelina's persistence and petulence cut into Zelda's musings. "How are you fairing, need some water? Can I get you a fan? It's looking to be a warm day!"

The Priestess had not left Zelda's side all morning. Zelda dropped her hand from her stomach to her lap and smiled weakly.

"I'm fine, Addy, I'm just getting married, not...not giving birth!"

"We can talk on  _that_  later. I trust you remember our discussion about your wedding night."

Zelda felt herself flush, and was embarrassed to have done so. "Yes, of course," she clipped. This wedding was little more than a formality - Zelda's relationship with Link being quite the open secret - yet Adelina in all her innocence and severity either did not know or assumed not to want to.

"Lift your head up for me, Zelda, there we go," Lady Riju patted her chin, and Zelda did as she was told, letting her exasperation go. It was nerves, nothing more.

Riju examined her work with a lopsided frown. "Well, I hope you don't mind a more  _relaxed_  look to your braids. I've not had much practice at doing them for others lately."

Zelda turned her head slightly to examine the finished style; a pair of twin braids on either side of her crown, meeting at the nape of her neck into a long braid down her back, which Riju was now setting about twining into a neat bun.

"It's lovely, and I know you've been busy anyhow," Zelda said.

A pin still between her teeth Riju replied, "I've never met a more picky people than  _mages_ ," she punctuated the final word by angrily driving a pin into Zelda's hair. "But otherwise the new magic academy is going well."

"I would never have guessed," Saki said, swanning across the room with Zelda's dress. "No politics. We agreed, remember?" She placed her wingtips on the now scowling Riju's shoulders and gently drew her away. "All done here?"

Zelda did not look again at her reflection. "All done," she affirmed.

As Saki began to help Zelda into her dress - a soft, draped gown in mauve and white, with gold trimmings wherever trimmings could be put - Larella quietly but urgently stepped into the room.

"Fifteen minutes, girls. The wheelhouse is ready by the gates, and I received word from the cathedral that everything is in order there!" the Chief Advisor balled her fists, shaking giddily. The excitement of the wedding was enough to spur on a girlish wonder in Larella that broke through her normally austere surface, and she had been beaming all morning. When she saw Zelda all dressed and ready, she nearly went to pieces, crossing the room with her hands stretched forward to cup Zelda's face.

Zelda placed a hand over Larella's, and though the woman's scaly skin was cool, she felt warmed by the affection. There was nothing to say, only to smile, and look around the room at the four woman with her.

Adelina, Saki, Larella and Riju.  _New_  friends, in a new century. Friends she had never expected to find after so much heartbreak.

"Well, let's not stand around then!" she told them. "I don't want to get there and find Link has dozed off."

* * *

Battlemaster Link of Hateno and Her Majesty Queen Zelda of Hyrule were married on a summer's morning in the recently reconstructed Hyrule Cathedral on the banks of the Hylia River. High Priestess Adelina conducted the ceremony; a few prayers to the Goddess, and a vow that they had chosen. There was no need to declare love or obedience. The words were simple and long-decided.

_I go where you go. All of mine is yours, all of yours is mine, your hearth and home and food shared in turn. I'll be there with you when the world ends, and thereafter, so long as time shall be._

Try as she might, Zelda could not help tearing up as she spoke the vows, and when she saw a single beady tear on Link's cheek, she  _laughed_ , and so their first act as husband and wife was a fit of giggles that left poor Adelina bewilderedly trying to continue her blessing. Very little of what she said was of importance, except that it was now nearly one hundred and four years since the Calamity.

After the ceremony was a banquet that filled the castle dining halls with faces, aromas and tales from all corners of the Kingdom. Kass had kindly volunteered to play at the dinner, his apprentice Yunobo joining in on the hand drum, and their tunes too filled the halls. Towards the end of the night, Link and Zelda's friends and allies gathered to send them off to their honeymoon. However, Zelda announced happily that she and Link were, in fact, not going anywhere. They had spent so much time on the road that they wanted instead to simply  _live_ , together, at the Castle.

No, Link and Zelda would stay. After all, they still had so much work to do. There was a Royal Academy of Higher Learning to set up (to the  _exact_ specifications of its new Director, Dr Purah). In addition, there were laboratories to rebuild, a second Grand Summit to plan, mages of the Great Plateau to liaison with, mountains of correspondence from Teba's scouts to read and of course, the rare but cherished visit from King Sidon, of Lanayru.

And not least of all was the task of answering the question - the final question - that Zelda had been holding off on.

Now with her Father's diary, and the diaries of the Champions - what was she to do with them?

* * *

_One Hundred and Three Years Earlier_

_One Month Before the Calamity_

* * *

The oil made his hands slick and slippery, and water being hard to come by in Eldin, grimy too. But Daruk didn't mind so much. He liked to take a vial or two of oil to Rudania, and some cloth, and polish the old boy's terminals and inner workings. Sometimes he would mutter to him too;  _How are you today? It's hot up here, isn't it?! I didn't sleep, I never sleep much, never have. Bein' the boss means you can't sleep much anyway, but I think it's growin' on me like_ I _grew on_ you _!_

The Beast would sometimes groan some reply, which over time Daruk found he was able to sense out some meaning.

_You prove yourself worthy_.

Rudania had told him that on occasion, though Daruk never accepted it. He'd think,  _All I did was look out for my people. I listened like I listen to you._

Orroth found him climbing out of Rudania after a few hours of bonding time. He wore a frown on his face, lips puckered and beady eyes downturned.

"What's rattling you, son?" Daruk said, clapping him on the back.

"I was looking at the orders and stuff again. Everything from Hyrule Castle has stopped. Those Sheikah used to order luminous stone by the tonne, but now," He made a cross shape with his arms to signify the end of the arrangement.

In any other time of his life, Daruk might have laughed it all off and say,  _those silly Hylians, let 'em do what they want._

But he knew the Sheikah were the ones who had built Rudania and all the other fancy technological stuff. The tiny Princess had explained it to him with such enthusiasm that he thought  _he_ might like to be a scholar. So why would the Sheikah suddenly stop asking for what they needed?

Orroth sidled in close and spoke low. When he was like this Daruk felt an intense need to protect him, forgetting that Orroth was as strong as any other grown Goron, possibly stronger than Daruk himself!

"Dad, I'm worried," he said. "Akje told me the Sheikah have left the Castle. Does that sound bad? I know you've been worried-"

Daruk placed his hands on his son's shoulders, remembering a time when he could lift the boy onto his shoulders. He missed that time before he'd become boss, when it'd just been them and his own dad and not the whole of Goron City to watch over.

"The King and the Princess told us they have a plan. I'm doing everything I can. If something has gone wrong, we just have to work harder."

Orroth nodded, and as a sign that his anxieties had passed, he turned the conversation onto the topic of dinner.

* * *

Calliope surveyed the desert below them with unwavering focus. She folded her powerful arms over her chest and sighed. "Where  _are_  they hiding?"

Urbosa felt her own frustration rising. They stood on one of the long balconies on the outer edge of Divine Beast Vah Naboris. Beneath their feet was the constant, plonking rhythm of Naboris' steps. The other Champions had left their Divine Beasts perched on plateaus or mountains, but Naboris was not one for respite. She needed to be out, and active. She could help search for the rogue Yiga and mages, the ones who had attacked the Hylian fleet.

But nothing had come of it. Buzzing with her own impatience, Urbosa turned to walk back inside the Divine Beast, approaching the central terminal. Calliope followed and asked if perhaps they should consider returning home. In answer, Urbosa said,

"We have scouts and guardswomen scouring Gerudo, and we've been circling the Wastes for two hours now, and have found nothing."

"We are doing all we can. Calamity Ganon takes priority—"

"And if we defeat him? Then what? The Kingdom forgives us for what the Yiga did? It is  _our_  responsibility to keep them down."

There was a shudder all around them, and a warbling call from the Divine Beast. Urbosa felt herself shrink, the anger receding quickly. It was a dishonour to allow herself a temper in the presence of Vah Naboris, who had been given to her, not as a right but a gift. Urbosa may have proven herself a worthy pilot, but the rashness and haughty determination of her youth still remained. Humility in equal measure with pride was the best way to rule.

"We are doing all we can," Calliope reiterated. "Do not blame yourself for things beyond your control!"

"That's what I don't like...feeling so helpless. And so  _responsible_ , with Ganon once being Gerudo."

That particular point had been quite the sore topic in Gerudo Town lately. Urbosa wasn't quite sure where the rumour had come from, or even who had begun it. But like all good rumours, it carried just enough truth that it caught, spreading like fire through desert grass.

Needing reassurance, Urbosa placed a hand on the control terminal and felt the presence of her Beast.

_I patrol, Champion. We will find what you seek._

_Dutiful as ever_ , Urbosa thought.  _Like me. Like what I must be._

* * *

Thick snow battered Rito Village in a war of attrition, fluttering in by the inch through the open-air huts and dropping visibility down to less than ten feet. But the work continued as it would always continue. Revali rose and dawn, gave himself one moment of pause, and set about his day of rigorous training and flight practice - blizzard or no!  _Lead Champion_  or no!

When he returned to Rito Village at noon his feathers were coated with sweat and his muscles crying out for rest, but it was not Revali that needed attention (at least not right now). It was his bow.

The many patrons waiting in and outside the smithy parted when he arrived.  _Master Revali_  they muttered quietly, stepping aside to reveal Orni at the helm of the workshop. Upon seeing him, his sister put down her notebook and quill and regarded him with annoyance.

"I'm busy," she said flatly, but Revali ignored her, and handed her his Great Eagle Bow.

"There's a splinter, I need it fixed before I go to Rito Town."

She passed a quick glance at the other Rito she was serving, and then said in a sterner tone, "I have others to attend to, Revali."

"None of them are  _me_."

Orni looked for a second as though she might toss him from the workshop, but politely excused herself, and grabbed Revali hard by the shoulder. His talons scratched on the wood, but she was stronger than him and easily won, dragging him outside.

When she released him, Revali feigned great offence but could tell by the harshness in Orni's eyes that he should not fight her. Still, it did not stop him trying.

"In front of  _everyone_ -"

"Brother, enough," Orni snapped. "If you need a repair, line up with the rest or see me after closing."

"Need I remind you who I am."

She pointed skywards. "Your  _Divine Beast_  circling the village never lets us forget!"

Before he could admonish her, she went on. "Listen, can you take me up to Medoh? There's something I want to show you."

Revali would not argue that. Abandoning the smithy and its many patrons, Revali and Orni made for Divine Beast Vah Medoh with the aid of Revali's now perfected  _Gale_. They landed on the Beast's back, wherein Revali rushed for the control unit, needing to be near to his ancient companion.

"How is performance, Medoh?" he asked, placing a wingtip on the terminal. The Beast replied in a voice that only Revali could hear, and with an assurance seeping through the monotonous tone.

_Optimal, Pilot. Current patrol setting: continuous._

Orni was watching with concern. She reached forward and gently pulled his wingtip from the terminal, and said, "Revali, do you  _know_  why so many people have been coming to me?"

"Well, I assumed it was to order weapons, to prepare for the upcoming battle!"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The Tabantha Wheat harvest failed again. For the third year in a row. We heard that Hylian Rice has failed too. And almost every other crop. It's like...it's like there's something in the ground. Revali, those people were coming to me to register for  _rations_." She walked him to the very edge of Medoh's outer platform and pointed down to the ground, where beneath the snow, entire fields were bare.

"Well, why wasn't I told?" Revali scoffed. "I'm  _Champion_ , I ought to know!"

"You're always out training!"

"I have to be!"

"I know, but…" Orni wrung her wingtips, but after a moment looked him dead in the eye and said, "You've become obsessed, Brother. Ever since that Hylian was named Hero. I know you already have a heavy burden, and as we are told, quite the fight ahead of you. But... please, don't forget who you fight  _for_."

* * *

Mipha twirled her trident, as Link had taught her. She looked down into the waters of the Bank of Wishes, and for a moment she paused. Who was the girl looking back up at her? Did she have an identity, beyond wanting to help others?

A flash of colour caught her eye, and she drove the spear into the waters. She felt a squelch and triumphantly lifted a skewered bass to show her brother. Little Sidon cheered and clapped his fins.

"The secret is patience," Mipha told him. The words reminded her of a different time and a different lesson. Sidon must have seen her frowning, for his cheering stopped.

"Mipha?" he said softly.

She turned back to the waters, glaring now at her reflection, desperate for it to be different somehow.

Was this how she had looked, when Link had made his last visit?

He had sat with her all afternoon on Vah Ruta. Mipha healed one of his cuts, and they spoke about their work as Champions, and once or twice, the  _Calamity_. Their words and voices were soft, and it seemed to Mipha at the time that they would become embedded in the stones of the Divine Beast, hidden but ever present, much like she and Link had been. And then, just before they left, Link held her back and said;  _I've been thinking. Why don't we wait...until this is all over?_

Mipha had not wanted to see. She had chosen not to see. But her eyes betrayed her, and she had looked regardless. Link and the Princess...something had changed between them. Ah, how Mipha hated these feelings! She had to focus all her attention on Vah Ruta, but every time she looked at the Divine Beast, all she could think of was that final afternoon. She had been so sure that maybe if she made Link the armour and told him how she felt...

There was a tug on her hand, and when Mipha looked, she was met with a pair of huge, hungry yellow eyes. "Mipha?" Sidon repeated. He pointed to the fish still skewered by Mipha's trident. "Um...lunch?"

"O-Of course," she knelt, and pulled the fish free, handing it to her little brother. "All yours."

The feelings of sorrow and jealousy vanished as soon as Sidon appeared. He was a stark reminder of what truly mattered in preparation for this  _Calamity Ganon_ , and so Mipha decided then to put all her brooding to rest. As Sidon tucked into his lunch, she looked up to the Plateau where Vah Ruta had been stationed, and thought,  _I have abandoned you, I know_.

There was a cry from the banks above. Mipha told Sidon to stay exactly where he was and went climbing the banks towards the winding path that ran alongside the river.

There she found one of the patrolling guards, Finn, desperately fighting off a  _lynel!_

Without a moment's hesitation, Mipha leapt forward, ducked under the bucking beast and drove her spear deep into its belly. It was not enough to kill it, but enough to draw its attention away from Finn. The lynel bucked and reared, spraying blood and spittle from its mouth. To Mipha's surprise, the beast then turned and lopped away, giving one final roar before disappearing into the trees. It wasn't until it was gone that Mipha realised the blood on its mouth and mane was not from its own injuries.

On the other side of the path lay two other guards. Mipha felt a surge of energy in her core, spurring on the instinct to heal, but it faded with a bitter lustre when she realised that no amount of healing would help. Both of the guards were torn open and mangled from the attack.

"Your Highness! Avert your eyes," Finn said through panting breaths. He was fighting to keep his composure, and a weak sob escaped him. He looked over at the bodies once again and broke. "Oh, Hylia help us. That was the third attack this week."

He buried his head in his hands, crouching low on the ground, and Mipha saw then burn marks on his arms. She knelt, and silently began to heal him.

When his wounds were gone, Mipha said, "I need you to take my brother home, immediately. Tell my father what you saw."

"Are you sure you want to travel alone, Your Highness? Where will you go?"

"My Divine Beast," Mipha answered. "The Calamity cannot be far off."

* * *

Rhoam paced across the marble of the Sacred Grounds, drawing lines with his footprints. The snow underfoot melted quickly, the ground now a muddy damp. The hint of Spring was in the air, but to Rhoam it felt was so far off that it was like a dream and one that would never materialise.

Sir Otra placed an arm in front of his chest to stop his pacing and said, "They will come. You can relax."

Dully, Rhoam thought to push past the Battlemaster but knew Otra's strength far outmatched his own and decided against it. In any case, Otra was his last friend, and one of his last allies. Rhoam did as instructed, and stood in place.

"How is Sir Micah?" he asked, hoping some conversation might ease him. Otra frowned, pausing to look beyond the evergreen and snow-gladed trees around them.

"Some days I don't recognise him. He looks the same, but his illness turns him into a different man. I've had to bar him from attending any training that Link might also be at. I  _know_  Micah is proud of his son, he told me so, but this  _frustration_  within him... I am considering sending him on indefinite leave."

Rhoam pondered the words for a long while and spotted some figures arising over the horizon. His summoned guests were almost upon them.

"I admit I feel personally responsible," Rhoam said. "So much was thrown into turmoil with the… the fortune teller's departure. We did not notice Micah's deterioration."

"You cannot be responsible unless that Seer  _cursed_  us."

"Let's not be so sure," Rhoam grinned. They laughed, but after a moment fell into a heavy silence. The possibility of a curse was there, and strong, and Malachi's departure from Rhoam's inner circle had been... _difficult_.

Rhoam had been determined to fight on, but one by one his supporters withdrew. Even his daughter felt now inaccessible, a foreign agent that he could not control. But she remained steadfast in trying to unlock her powers, and in coordinating the Champions, though she was no longer allowed access to the Sheikah Slate. It was this sole task - this sole united front against the impending Calamity - that gave Rhoam hope.

Gradually the figures on the horizon grew into discernable shapes; one rider atop a large stallion, one tiny Zora on foot and one rolling rock. Rhoam could not see the airborne figure he also expected but knew it was not far off. The Champions had been summoned by letter: meet at noon exactly one fortnight from now, at the Sacred Grounds.

Daruk rolled in first, unravelling himself and giving Rhoam a jolly Goron greeting.

"Hyrule King!" he beamed, dispensing the moniker with affection rather than scorn, and clapped him hard on the back. Rhoam could not help but smile at the Goron's enthusiasm.

"Good to see you, Lord Daruk," he said. Urbosa followed behind on a brightly decorated horse with a vivid red mane, while Princess Mipha trailed on foot, a slender trident fastened over her shoulder. The Gerudo Chief waved, cooly greeting them with, "Sav'Otta, Hyrule King, Sir Otra."

Both women wore winter cloaks - Urbosa's was sewn with bells on the hem that tinkered as she dismounted - an unusual sight that struck Rhoam as vaguely ominous. They bowed just as overhead, the sound of flapping wings could be heard.

Revali landed on the marble just behind them and gave Rhoam little more than a slight nod.

The four Champions still wore their scarves, and the sight gave Rhoam a slight but needed boost of confidence. "Welcome, and thank you for coming at short notice," he addressed them. "Sorry I could not meet you in the Castle. Out here we can talk freely, without gossip mongers, or prying eyes."

"Aside from the Goddess's," said Urbosa dryly, eyeing the patterned marble at their feet.

"Of course…" Rhoam looked down at the carving, though it meant little to him. He cleared his throat and decided to cut straight to the point. "The resurrection will be soon. The omens grow in strength every day."

The four Champions muttered in agreement, Daruk mumbling something about  _those pighead thugs_.

"I ask that you stay for two weeks, to create a plan of attack, and then return to your Divine Beasts."

More muttering. Sir Otra added, "The temptation is to simply throw all we've got at whatever appears, but a coordinated effort is more likely to succeed."

"But do we even have two weeks?" Urbosa asked.

Rhoam nervously stroked his beard. There was no skirting the issue. "I don't know," he said. "But if anything happens...we will at least be in a position to work together."

Daruk, who had been listening with intent, suddenly swung around towards Death Mountain and peered through narrowed eyes at Vah Rudania in the far distance. He turned back with a concerned frown, and said,

"Hey uh...not trying to pry but, my son told me about the Sheikah leaving the Castle? Who do I talk to if something happens to Rudania?"

Rhoam sighed. "After the attack, the Sheikah were hesitant to remain. Most of the laboratories are empty, though some work continues on the Guardians."

_Some_  work, but little. To make matters worse Dr Purah and Robbie - Hyrule's leading Guardian experts - had been at the very centre of the attack. They, along with their sister Impa, were the first to leave. The rest followed in a steady, white line.

Daruk's frown faded. He gave Rhoam a gentler, though no less thumping pat on the back.

"Sometimes people just have to go," he said, with an un-Goronly sageness. Rhoam sensed personal experience in his words.

Urbosa and Revali regarded the conversation with stern, unyielding gazes, and Rhoam expected them to have some opinion on the matter, but it was the Princess of the Zora who spoke next.

"If I may, what about the Shrine of Resurrection? I have heard of it, and its healing capabilities, but without the Sheikah…"

"It is accessible, on the Great Plateau," Rhoam answered. "But I hope we never need use of it. It was Dr Purah's purview, sadly without her, I don't know that we can operate it."

Rhoam stroked his beard again, wondering who he might send to the Plateau to inspect the Shrine. Such powerful technology should not go unused. He looked up at the Champions to see they had all turned and were watching the approach of four riders into the Sacred Grounds.

Revali, who had barely spoken a word, let out a great caw of laughter and said, "Look at that. You can ask her yourself!"

"Isn't this the place to be?" Urbosa said. She and Revali shared a laughing glance, while Mipha looked on in amazement and Daruk mouthed a long  _wow_.

Approaching two abreast on four deeply coloured horses were a group of Sheikah, and as they drew nearer, Rhoam recognised them as none other than Purah, Impa and Robbie, escorting their Elder, Soklee. The Sheikah were equally surprised by the party greeting them, but still hurried to dismount, and bow.

"Your Majesty, what a strange boon this is. We came to speak to  _you_ ," said Soklee.

"Come to admonish me?" Rhoam said, smiling weakly. Soklee chuckled, the warm sound reassuring. Rhoam realised that her calming presence reminded him ever faintly of his wife.

"The opposite," Soklee said. "We came to apologise. When my charges returned home, I realised I had made a mistake. Had I been the advisor you needed, Malachi would never have become so ingrained in your service."

"Well, I am not without blame."

"No, but I could have warned you."

Her words were eight years too late, but Rhoam did not have the energy for a grudge or for unsettled scores. Soklee and the Sheikah were here now, where he needed them.

"We can discuss this at the Castle," he told them. The Sheikah nodded. They regarded him no longer with hate, but pity. He'd seen it a lot, lately. Rhoam knew he should be the strength of the Kingdom, leading the charge against the Calamity, but he was hollow. A porcelain figure of himself, one that would take little force to shatter.

* * *

Hyrule Castle appeared unchanged in the three months that Purah had been away, but up close it seemed to be crawling with malady. The palace was buzzing, the walls alive and ready. But when she touched the cold marble, she felt something pulsating beneath.

She followed her sister as they navigated the winding halls. Robbie had abandoned them to where the Guardians were being tested. He took the Sheikah Slate with him, the instrument having been entrusted with Impa for the sole purpose of keeping it from the Princess.  _Never mind our research_ , Purah had thought.  _Or the looming disaster!_

The deeper they went into the Castle, the more she wanted to gag. "Tell me you sense that," she grumbled.

Impa ran a hand along the wall as they walked. "Of course I do. More than you. It's coming, and soon."

Purah had vehemently argued against returning here, the nightmares of the Yiga Attack still haunting her dreams. But when Impa had argued that they would serve the Kingdom best in aid of the Princess and the King, she had no choice but to relent. What good were they doing, waiting in Kakariko Village? She would rather work for an incompetent King than no King at all.

At last, they reached what they had been searching for; the entrance to the secret tunnels leading from the Castle. They were hidden uncreatively behind a bookcase. Impa peered into the entryway to check it was not blocked and then sealed it up once more. After that, they began the trek back to the surface, for which Purah was grateful.

Their next errand was to check on the Princess, who had returned to the Castle that morning. Impa had fretted over Zelda for months but was comforted somewhat by knowing how dedicated the Princess's appointed Knight was. He had not left her side during her entire recovery after the attack, and nor at any time during the one or two times, the pair had visited Kakariko Village.

"He is a comfort to her," Impa had commented, once they had departed.

"A comfort?" Purah had said. "I don't like the sound of  _that_."

They found the Princess outside her study, overlooking the Guardian testing yard. She was standing with Link, marvelling at the sight and enthusiastically chattering away to him about what they saw. Purah noted that the poor girl looked truly happy, which could only preface the arrival of her father, appearing on the walkway with a trio of Knights.

Purah and Impa were unable to make themselves known then. It was a pitiful sight, the argument father and daughter had then.  _Failure_ , Rhoam called his daughter.  _Heir to nothing_.

By the time it was over, Zelda was on the verge of tears. The King turned to leave, and as soon as he was gone from sight, she broke down, her tears flowing freely. Link was on his feet in an instant, gently rubbing a hand on her back to calm her. She gave him a small smile, her face only a few inches from his. They whispered something between themselves and laughed quietly.

Purah nudged her sister then, whispering, "He certainly looks like a comfort!"

Impa shushed her but made no move to leave. As they continued to watch the pair, Purah was struck by how close they seemed, how  _in love_ , despite no open affection between them. She thought of the Sheikah bard, whom she knew was stationed at the court but rarely seen. Would he write songs of them if they both survived? She found herself wishing intently that he would, followed by the urge to gag once more.

"We need to help her, somehow," Impa muttered, and Purah's bitter thoughts sloughed away.

"Yes, we do," she replied, watching with a full heart as Zelda gave Link a playful but affectionate shove. Purah knew what her sister was thinking without needing to ask.

"I will convince Robbie," she said. "He will fight it, but he always listens to me in the end."

Impa smiled a rare sight. "It's the least we can do."

* * *

The travelling clothes and white winter coat had been made bespoke, fitted just to Zelda's measurements. But now they seemed...wrong. Itchy, somehow. She wasn't a traveller...wasn't a scholar...wasn't anyone…

"Is there anything else you need, before we go?"

Link was there, ready as always, holding the reins of their horses. Zelda's hand went to her belt, noting the absence of her Sheikah Slate. Zelda told him they needed to wait for the others, and they fell back into a comfortable silence. Link rubbed the back of his neck, and Zelda wanted desperately to take his hand and intertwine their fingers. She wanted to tell him she was afraid, that she was infinitely grateful he was here with her. She wanted to lift him from his sorrows - about his father, about Mipha. She wanted to hold him close and to be held close, but the looming threat of the Calamity permeated and fouled every action between them. Nothing could be realised until it was passed. But what, if anything, would be left?

Soon three of the four Champions approached; Daruk, Urbosa and Mipha. Daruk struck up a cheering conversation with Link over his training regime, while Urbosa quietly asked Zelda how she was feeling. Mipha hovered at the edge of the group, fiddling with one of her bracelets.

"No Revali?" Zelda asked. Urbosa shook her head, "He was busy, with training."

"Oh...of course," Zelda muttered. She had hoped to speak to him again. Why had he withdrawn so? No doubt as disappointed in her as her father was - as she suspected, deep down, that everyone was.

As Zelda and Link were about to depart the gate of Lanayru, there was a call from the hills. Descending down into the promenade was...Impa! And Purah, and Robbie!

"Princess!" Impa called, hopping light-footed through the slopes. She greeted the Champions, and turned her attention hurriedly to Zelda, pressing something into her hands. For a moment Zelda could not process what she held. It could not be here. It could not be real.

"B-But my father forbade-"

"The Sheikah Slate belongs to  _you_ , Zelda," Impa said. " _You_  helped us find it, you know how to use it, and taught the Champions how to use their Divine Beasts. We cannot claim it," she gave Robbie a shove. The researcher's face was conflicted, but he swallowed and said,

"I don't technically need the Slate to work with the Guardians. Just...look after it." Impa gave him another shove. " _Ack_! Okay! I'm sure you will. We believe in you."

Dr Purah was the last to speak. She had her arms crossed and wore a tight frown.

"Return quickly," she said curtly. "You're good with that, and I could use a new apprentice."

Zelda trembled so much at the words that she nearly dropped the Slate. "You would...you would take me on, for real?"

Purah dropped her arms to her side. " _For real_ , as you so glibly put it. But yes, Princess," she smiled. "You will make a good addition to our team."

"Put your entire being into this, Zelda," Impa urged.

Zelda looked around at the faces before her - her friends, her Champions, just few of the many relying on her. "I will," she said. Impa reached forward and placed a hand on her cheek.

"Goodbye, Princess," she whispered. Something in her tone was wrong. It was so final so sad. Zelda felt a sudden shock, Impa's cool hand  _burning_  her skin and she cried,

"Wait! You...you sense something, don't you? Like the fortune teller!"

Impa looked conflicted but said nothing. She drew her hand away and nodded towards Link. He led Zelda's horse over, and ushered Zelda up into the saddle, before mounting his own horse. All the while, Zelda shook. She didn't understand, didn't  _want_  to understand. Was it almost time? How could it be so soon? She wasn't ready. No one was! Panic settled into Zelda's core, but her horse was already carrying her away, following Link's.

The Champions and the Sheikah waved them off and promised to see them at twilight, their cheers echoing through the promenade. When Zelda looked back towards Impa, the woman was crying.

* * *

_One Hundred and Three Years Later_

The training yard of Hyrule Castle hummed with potential. Quiet chatter from onlookers filled the battlements and walkways above. An eagle cawed overhead, passing across the sun held at its apex, and disappearing behind the silhouette a tall mechanical crane - one of several built by the Sheikah Robbie to repair the high towers of Hyrule Castle.

Link felt the familiar bite of cold steel on his fingertips as he spun his spear. Sir Inglis similarly spun his short blade in his hands and brought his shield to bear.

"Remember, Inglis, I'm  _quicker_  than you, and have more reach," Link called across the yard.  
"If you move first, I could have your neck open."

Inglis nodded. They stood opposite each other, separated by about ten paces. The exercise was for new recruits to watch their Battlemaster in action, but they had garnered spectators from all levels in the Hyrulean Academy. Link had at one point spied Scoutmaster Teba eyeing their practice with a focused but not judgemental eye, his son Tulin too watching with great interest. It made him want to put on a show, and so Link lunged forward with his spear at the ready.

Inglis proved himself as keen as he was strong, and he pivoted quickly, allowing the point of the spear to glance off his shield, knocking Link sideways somewhat and interrupting his balance. Link hotfooted across the packed earth and regained his centre quickly, but Inglis pressed the attack. He smacked Link across the small of his back with the flat of his short blade and sent him stumbling forward into the dirt. Link rolled and righted himself, returning to face Inglis with a flourish of his spear.

"Easy, Sir Inglis, I'm the Prince now," he said.

Inglis widened his stance for the next try. "Aye, but you fall on your arse like any other soldier."

There was a fading chuckle in the watching crowd. It spurred a hot-bloodedness in the two men, and they launched themselves at each other, sparring weapons clanging loudly with each burst of combat. The crowd ooh-ed and ahh-ed, until suddenly, they stopped.

Link and Inglis were mid-tussle when this occurred, and at first, they did not notice. Link sensed the change but did not want to be distracted, unlike Inglis who for the briefest moment turned. It was all Link needed, and with a sharp smack of his spear, his disarmed the other Knight and sent his short blade spinning into the dirt.

"What's that about falling on my arse?" Link jeered, but his words died when he saw who now stood in the training yard with them.

She was dressed again in riding pants and her beloved Rito coat over a plain white blouse, her golden hair worn long and loose. Every head in the crowd turned in unison as she approached Link and Inglis.

"Well, that was a good show!" Zelda beamed, laughing and clapping her hands together. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Inglis went to his knees. "Your Majesty, it's an honour," he said. Up on the battlements, all those present did the same. She nodded for them to rise, and turned her attention to Link. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask to speak to you alone. The throne room perhaps?"

Link looked up at the watching crowd. He sensed a heaviness in Zelda's voice and knew whatever she had come for was no light matter. While she waited for an answer, she brought her hands to her chest and was rubbing them together intently, left hand running over her right.

"Of course," Link said. An idea came to him then as he watched her wring her hands.  _Had she...could she have…?_

There was no time to finish the thought as there came a blistering crack from above. One of Robbie's mechanical cranes had crashed into a castle tower, sending a rain of dislodged bricks and rubble falling towards the training yard. Link's first thought was Zelda, though he knew those on the ramparts had nowhere for shelter. The realisation pained him, and he remembered Zelda's old powers; her ability to fashion a barrier of light from her outstretched palm.

And then, they very thing occurred before his eyes. Zelda raised her right hand high and from there sprung a huge, dome-shaped barrier that spanned the entire training yard. What little rubble fell towards them was deflected cleanly, and only a few moments after it had been erected, the barrier was gone.

Zelda lowered her hand, and turned slowly, eyes apologetic but betraying little else.  _I'm sorry_  she signed, balling a fist and drawing a small circle in front of her chest. Link could not say anything back. He lifted a hand and held his palm flat, gently moving it away from his body;  _It's okay_.

All around them were the shocked faces of the onlookers, though some were glowing with wonder. Link spotted Scoutmaster Teba wearing a proud smile, and his son Tulin jumping from talon to talon with excitement. Inglis stood with his arms limp at his side, his mouth hung open.

There was no time to explain anything. Zelda nodded for Link to follow, and left the training yard.

* * *

Sunlight fell in a fine curtain through the open archways of the throne room, making long shadows at their feet where they stepped.

Zelda stood at the centre, looking up at her throne. Her right hand was still glowing and shaking. She did not look at Link as he approached, only sighed, and balled her fists tight.

"I should have told you," she said quietly.

Link took hold of her right hand, surprised that the golden symbol gave off no warmth, only light. "How long…?"

"When we went to the Deku Tree after Sir Thom disappeared. I don't know why I just knew I needed the power back."

"You haven't needed it. You've done so much without it."

Zelda curled her fingers around his, pressing her forehead against his chest. "But what if the day comes that I do?" she murmured. "We can't assume Ganon is gone forever. We  _know_  he will be back...someday. But, well there was another reason…"

Link nodded for her to continue. She lifted her head and met his eyes. Her own were not a girl's eyes anymore, but that of an old woman. They had taken in too much, deep pools overflowing with all the atrocities of the world. Zelda looked over her shoulder, out through an archway to Castle Town beyond.

"I miss our friends, Link. I miss the Champions, I miss my father. Elder Soklee, Otra, even Malachi. Reading the diaries we found, they all feel so close, so real to me. But so few living even knew them."

Link gave her hand a squeeze, running a thumb over her golden mark. "You could always use the power again," he said. "To  _look back_." Zelda shook her head immediately.

"No. It's like we always say. Best to leave those memories to rest. I only wish...I wish I knew how my father died. If he suffered. If he found peace."

She broke away from his grip and walked over to an archway. The sun was still high, and underneath it, the faint outlines of Hyrule's rolling hills and high mountains were clear and sharp; the imprint of their home, at this very moment, captured in a window.

"You know what I do?" he asked, standing by Zelda's side. She quirked a brow at him."I choose to believe whatever truth I need to. When I can't remember, or I don't know something about someone, I just...imagine...the truth."

Zelda nodded but said nothing. Link found himself wondering then as Zelda must be; what was the truth her father deserved? The truth  _Zelda_  deserved?

"You  _can_  look if you want to. You have a choice, Zelda," Link told her.

Zelda closed her eyes. "I suppose I do."

* * *

_One Hundred and Three Years Earlier_

_The day of the Calamity_

* * *

The Sheikah Robbie was giving a demonstration of the latest developments on the Guardians, though he had mysteriously appeared an hour late for their morning meeting. He claimed he had important business to attend to with Elder Soklee, but Rhoam sensed the lie. Dr Purah and Impa were curiously absent.

Robbie gestured to an active Guardian, who was sitting peacefully at the centre of the yard. "And if you will watch, Your Majesty, some of the Guardians appear able to communicate-"

"Where is your Sheikah Slate?" Rhoam interrupted.

Robbie chewed his lip. "Well…" he began. "It isn't fully necessary to control-"

" _Where is the Sheikah Slate_?" Rhoam repeated.

"The Princess has it," Robbie said hurriedly. "I told them not to give it to her! But Impa insisted!" He took a step back towards the Guardian in what seemed like a defensive manoeuver, anticipating one of Rhoam's now infamous tempers. But Rhoam had nothing to give. He pinched the bridge of his nose and dismissed Robbie with a curt wave of the hand.

Lethargic and already done with the day, Rhoam trudged from the yard back to his chambers. His argument with Zelda had occurred almost a week ago now, and yet it still made him feel raw and callous. Just three months ago, she had nearly died, and he had promised himself to be kinder with her. But as time marched ever on and her powers remained a potential unrealised, his patience began to drain. When he'd seen her idling about watching the Guardians...if he was honest with himself he could barely remember the argument, only the need to argue.

There was no use in his cruel words, he knew. What good had humiliation ever done? How could the threat of gossip mongers inspire her abilities? They could not.

He flopped heavily down onto his bed, noticing how breathless the small exertion of climbing the tower had made him. Sitting up, he caught his reflection in a mirror and saw an old man. He was not yet in his mid-50s, yet he had aged beyond recognition. Less than two decades prior he had defeated a lynel, in the rain and fog with little more than wits and a short sword. The feat would be impossible now.

The longer he sat, the lower his mood became. Rhoam thought to call on Malachi, to talk, momentarily forgetting that this was impossible. The remembering stung, and Rhoam cursed the man's name, wishing him dead with every bit of earnestly he had left. Malachi could well be by now. No reports had come in of any sightings, or any trouble that might be attributed to him. He had vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, with none the wiser of his true motivations.

Head buried in his hands, Rhoam thought of the one person he wished to speak to most. The desperation for her was so strong, so gripping and immediate, that he could almost hear her voice and feel her sitting beside him. She would laugh at his worries, thread an arm around his and sit by his side, saying,

"How is my layabout today, hm?"

Rhoam opened his eyes, and there she was. His wife, Queen Zelda, sitting comfortably on the end of their bed beside him. Her stomach was rounded from pregnancy, and she was smiling. It was a smile she had likely never given him in life.

"Zelda…" Rhoam murmured, the name coming out as a cracked whimper. "You'd know what to do. How do I fix this? How do I survive?"

All the while, she smiled, and her hands on her belly, rubbing it affectionately. "I never left."

Rhoam understood immediately;  _our daughter…_

"Tell me, please," he begged the apparition, not caring if she was real or just an apparition.

"Go to her study, Rhoam," Zelda answered. "For once, see your daughter for who she  _is_ , and not who she was meant to be."

With each word, the vision faded, and Rhoam was alone once more. As he had been for seventeen years. Apparition or hallucination or whatever she had been, Rhoam determined then to follow his wife's advice.

The study was tiny, only large enough for a single desk and a pair of shelves on each side, but Zelda had filled it to its very edges. Diagrams ran two metres tall, and higher in some places, climbing up the walls of the tower. She had books on everything from survey techniques, to ancient history, to herbology and chemistry, and many, many more research journals. The entire collection alone would be impressive for Sheikah researcher, but for one little girl…

Zelda's entire being inhabited this place. It could be read in the lovingly drawn diagrams, the sprawling notes, the way each journal was thoroughly broken in, some even a little grass stained, or cracked from immense heat.

Rhoam found himself completely entranced and, at that moment, bursting with pride. His daughter was a scholar, through and through, despite all the obstacles that had been placed in her way. Despite all that  _he_ had placed in her way.

Inspired, Rhoam made his way down to his own study, which was sparse and underused by comparison. He took out his journal, now almost full, and prepared to write an entry on the events that had transpired in the past week. The most recent entries he had strangely begun to address to Zelda, wanting in some way to impart something to her. He had considered them as his way of filing ideas so that he might teach her to rule proper once the Calamity had passed. But seeing the extent of his daughter's hidden passions, he realised it was merely because he missed her.

Carefully, knowing one day his words might be read over, he wrote of his argument with Zelda and his growing realisation at the distance between them. He made the decision then that from this day he would be a changed man. His last ally would always be her, and he refused to lose her now.

When Zelda returned, Rhoam would sit her down, he would apologise. He would say, _little one, child of mine, do you know how strong you are?_  He would tell her how incredibly proud of her that he was - and is! He would say how eternally proud her own mother would be. A researcher- no, a scholar, at just seventeen!  _What was I doing at seventeen? Battering people with wooden swords, that's what._  He would tell her that he had laid too much weight in prophecy, in fate, that he had let himself be swayed by the very fear that must consume her now. He would say the words he had never said; I was wrong.

He would tell her to take up her books once more. He would tell her that he loved her, from one end of the Kingdom and back, and that whatever stood in her way to fulfilling her destiny, then he would help her overcome it in any way that he could. Ganon didn't know what was coming! Ganon did not know the Princess he was about to face!

Rhoam would have done all of that if he only had the chance. He would have tried, at the very least, to cross the chasm that had grown between himself and his daughter. He would have, with one simple decision, begun to redeem seventeen years of failure.

If not for the sudden rumble and shudder that followed, and the groaning roar that seemed so deep underground it was almost as if the earth itself were crying out. The Castle shook so violently that Rhoam fell from his chair onto the ground. Pulling himself to his feet, he abandoned his journal where it lay and ran for the throne room. He could not see it for sure, or even truly know, but the guttural sound told him only one thing.

The Calamity was begun.

* * *

The Castle was in a panic by the time Rhoam emerged into the throne room, servants and workers scrambling like ants under a boot. Above, just outside the Castle walls, he saw huge luminous clouds of a sickly, bubbling purple. It was unmistakable - Calamity Ganon was here, at the very Castle itself! On the edges of the Castle grounds, Rhoam saw an oncoming onslaught of monsters, most breaching the walls but some emerging from the very dirt. To his horror, the Guardians were among them, radiating that same corrupted purple and  _firing_  upon the Castle, sending much of it to flames.

More and more people pressed into the throne room, fleeing the carnage, and Rhoam finally found his voice, telling them to go deep into the Castle where they might be better protected. A steady flow of fleeing servants and civilians filled the throne room, and thankfully they passed quickly into the Castle. From the crowd, at last, came a pair of Knights - Sir Micah and Battlemaster Otra. Both were already splattered with dark blood, their weapons drawn. Otra wore a fierce, determined look of a true warrior, but Sir Micah was deathly pale, his bottom lip quivering.

"Rhoam! We need to get you out of here!" Otra called, pushing through the crowd to reach him.

"No, I will not leave the Castle."

"You're the King!"

Rhoam pointed to the destruction just beyond the throne room walls. "Of what Kingdom!? No. Hand me a sword." He held out an open palm expectantly, and Otra complied, unsheathing a short sword buckled to his belt and handing it over. Rhoam spun it in his hands gladly.

Sir Micah, who had been staring in horror at the advancing monsters, turned and seised Rhoam by the shoulders. "Where is my son!?" he cried.

"With my daughter!" Rhoam spat, disgusted suddenly by the man's fear.

"We need to find them!"

"There's no time."

"They're our children!"

Rhoam was half ready to slap the man. "If your son is half as brave as you, he will triumph. And if my daughter is even a little bit as stubborn as me, then Hyrule will not fall this day!"

This seemed enough to placate Micah, who hesitantly withdrew. He clutched his sword and readied himself, wiping the blood and dirt from his face. The hoard was advancing along the Eastern Passage, held back a thinning number of soldiers and Knights. It would not be long before they reached the throne room.

The stream of fleeing servants pettered. Some of the last to file through were the trio of young Sheikah, Impa clearly having fought her way to reach them. She was covered in blood, her single dagger completely black with it, but the two following researchers - Purah and Robbie - were unharmed.

"Your Majesty," Impa breathed. "You are safe." There was panic in her voice, a wavering that warned of tears. "H-Have you seen my mother? We heard she was in the Guardian testing yard, but we hoped..."

Rhoam could not answer beyond a forlorn look, for Soklee had not passed through the throne room at all, and behind Impa, Purah gasped and began to sob.

"I'm sorry," Rhoam said, apologising for more than just their mother. "I'm so...so sorry. You should go, to where it is safe."

"Rhoam…" Otra called, looking out the archways to the Eastern Passage. The monsters and Guardians had seen them and were quickly advancing.

"No, we must stay…" Impa said. "It's our duty…"

"My daughter is out there, somewhere. Find her!  _She_  is your duty."

"We can use the tunnels, Impa," Purah whimpered. "W-We checked them, remember?"

Rhoam pushed the trio towards the back of the room. "We'll hold them off. Go!"

Impa nodded. At her signal, the three Sheikah departed for the secret tunnels, and as they turned Rhoam caught Impa's final pitying glance. The rumble of the advancing monsters grew, the ground seeming to shudder. Rhoam turned his blade in his hands again and looked out the archways one last time.

Burning, it was all  _burning_. His Kingdom. There was nothing to be done. Rhoam waited. This was his legacy now; the catastrophe caused by a man who was never meant to be hoped that what he had done was at least enough. Enough that his daughter might continue.

Zelda. His dear Zelda.  _I held you the day you were born. I was never the Father you needed._ Rhoam was consumed by faith; not in himself, or in his people, but in his own daughter.

"Here it comes!" Otra called, a hint of exhilaration in his voice. Rhoam felt it too. He was ready.

Weapon in hand, with Otra and Micah at his back, Rhoam faced the oncoming horde.

* * *

_Gurgling clouds circle, sparked bright with lightning and thunder. Swirling malice rises. Up from the ground, Calamity come._

_It bursts from the Castle with a mind only to consume. The Kingdom below is its slop, its feed. It will rage and burn until all below is blackness._

_It's here; this is it then. Faces gather and watch in shock, in awe, in disbelief, asking, begging, for just a minute more. Are you sure? Positive._

_It's awake._

_Tendrils of malice arc through the sky in search of the Beasts, the prey to their corruption. Figures fly across a map in miniature, on fated paths. Running, stumbling, through the grass and air and desert, heading home in hopes of helping, of saving them, of ending this curse. Go! They shout. Go! Champions, to your Divine Beasts!_

_But the Beasts are sundered, like the Guardians that once served them, and soon their pilots too are fallen. In the north, the Goron Fighter makes his last stand, wide weapon ready. In the south, the Gerudo Mage raises her shield, unwilling to yield. In the west, the Rito Archer swoops and dives, wings burning as he nocks a final arrow. In the east, the Zora Healer brings her spear to bear, coughing blood into the water at her feet._

_One by one they fall, a long line of cards in the flimsy house they know as home._

_In every field and barren, the Kingdom burns. Death piled upon death, ash raining on ash. None speak except to scream. The Goddess is gone, and the heavens are silent._

_Hyrule is empty._

_But in an eastern corner, there is a tiny sliver of hope. A Princess and her Knight survive. A trio of Sheikah race through the land to find them. The Kingdom is whittled down to its final heroes, and with them rests the power for its salvation._

_At last, it awakens._

* * *

He found himself in defiance to the last.

A King no more. A man no more. But no more was he nothing, just a shadow now, empty in his finality. His castle overrun, his allies dead, his people fleeing, his fields black. Yet he waited, sitting on his throne.

For an eternity he seemed to wait. The darkness threatened to consume him. Darkness, like the darkness foreseen, like the darkness he tried to prevent. Who was he?

Who had he become?

He was not strong enough, he knew then. He let the darkness consume. Consume, consume, consume.

Until there came light. After darkness comes light. Always. After failure comes victory, and victory, failure. As it would be until the end of time.

And there the light was. The Sun, at last; his daughter.

_Zelda._

She stood at the Castle gates with a hand raised. She stood alone to face the darkness. This little girl, this little sparrow that the world barely knew. For a moment, he is...he simply  _is._

Rhoam became real. He became himself, once again, but was subordinate now, a mere lingering spirit against the Goddess who came to fight the Calamity.

Her light called out to something in the south...a spark of hope, a Knight, laid low.  _The Shrine of Resurrection_. Rhoam felt a gravity surrounding that place. He sensed all that he had not seen; Zelda's awakening, the Knight's fall. There was no time to mourn. The Castle was safe. His daughter...she was here. He was no longer needed.

And so Rhoam went. To the Plateau, to wait. To regain himself so that when the time came, he could fulfil one final task. He would guide that Knight to where he needed to be, to  _what_ he needed to be. Link was his name, and his paraglider was left near the Shrine; Rhoam took it. It needed to be kept safe, and only returned when the boy was ready.

The fires faded. The Calamity was relegated to Hyrule Castle, held in place, suspended but not sundered. It would not hold forever. Rhoam waited.

The Plateau absorbed him, the serenity of the place edifying him. He waited.

There was a message he wanted to pass on, written when the time was right. Written in a new journal, in a cabin. One last message, one last entry into the story of his life. Rhoam waited, and held steadfast, determined not to forget. Determined not to lose himself.  _You must remember, you must end this._

_You must save her, my daughter._

* * *

_One Hundred and Three Years Later_

* * *

Zelda opened her eyes, understanding then the weight of this place. The throne room was more than itself, in excess of its own space. This was where history convened. This was where it happened.

"So, what will you choose?" Link asked her, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Just as you said," Zelda answered, turning to leave. "Truth."

The wooden cabin was empty, and sparsely furnished, but it held a sense of familiarity. A homeliness present in every lived-in dwelling. Zelda stood silently in the doorway for a moment, before stepping inside.

"Remind me again why this detour was so important?" came Director Purah's cattish remark. Zelda laughed off her impatience and began to search through the cabin's drawers and cupboards.

It had been a strange week, leading up to this moment. Zelda had burst into Purah's office within Hyrule Castle, announcing she was ready to start working. Purah had glared at her with confusion and annoyance, so Zelda clarified,

" _You_  offered me a job, one hundred years ago, as your assistant."

"Not every Queen wants to be someone's assistant," Purah had said.

"How many Queens have you met?"

"Two. Both named Zelda. Both, I imagine, quite stubborn."

The construction of the new Royal Laboratories had been only the beginning of the work. Dr Purah was determined to conduct a full survey of all remaining Sheikah Technology, beginning naturally at the Great Plateau. Zelda's first assignment as Purah's assistant was to help her carry all the needed equipment.

The mages living on the Plateau were only happy to accommodate them but sadly had little in the way of actual accommodation. Carting materials up to the plateau was difficult, even with the new stairway hewn into the cliff face, and so the Mage Academy was still being built. Zelda and Purah could not stay longer than a few days.

In this short time, they discovered that a Sheikah Slate diagnostic is a two-way process, and as such, none could be carried out on the Divine Beasts. They were indeed dead if they ever truly lived. At the end of the second day, Zelda had spotted the cabin and abandoned the Shrine they were surveying to inspect it.

In a cupboard in the corner of the room, she found what she was looking for. A thick, leather journal, its pages so old they nearly crumbled as she turned them. Purah was peering over her shoulder, eyes wide. Zelda expected her to scoff at the discovery, but instead, she gasped.

"Wait...that handwriting, I recognise it!" she whispered. Zelda nodded.

"It's my father's," she said. "Link said his spirit lingered here, and that  _this..._ " Zelda turned the final page to find a long entry, writing as carefully as could be. "This is his final entry," she breathed.

Zelda and Purah huddled together on the floor of the cabin, the journal open on Zelda's lap as they read;

_My dearest Zelda,_

_I lived to pass on a torch. To hand my Kingdom to its next worthy ruler. Even before seventeen, you did what I could not. You united the Champions and gave Hyrule hope._

_You favour your mother, little bird, in almost every way. But if I have given you one thing, let it be this - faith. Faith in yourself, in your people, in your purpose. I believed Daruk could best his usurper, that Urbosa could lead the mages, that Revali could prove himself as a true warrior, that Mipha could maintain peace. I believed Link was the hero we needed, and that Malachi was an ally who could save us. I never lost faith in Hyrule. What I never had, what was fundamental, was faith in my own daughter._

_I have that in entirety now. And I see that this, at last, has not been misplaced._

_As I write this, your Beasts are gearing up to fire on Ganon. Your appointed Knight has never once faltered in his quest to be reunited with you. I saw the Zora Prince use his skill appease Ruta, I saw the Gerudo Chief boldly move to sedate Naboris, I saw the Rito Warrior defy death to subdue Medoh, and I saw the Goron youth challenge himself to contain Rudania. A new generation rises to meet the strength of the last._

_Champions and Beasts. Victory and failure. No matter what, I am grateful to have witnessed it. I will watch vindicated as you vanquish Ganon, Zelda, and I know you will succeed. So never lose your faith, in yourself and others. It is the divide that separates us from the darkness._

_And fill your pages well, Zelda. As well as fate deigns to allow._

_Your father,_

_Rhoam._

Zelda closed the journal and wiped away the budding tears in her eyes with her fingers. She now knew, without a doubt, what to do.

* * *

Four new scarves were made. Four invitations sent. Champion Day approached, and then arrived. Another anniversary of the Calamity, now the one hundred and fourth. The Kingdom lit up in celebration once more, but on this day, Zelda departed it all for the Sacred Grounds.

She wore a new ceremonial gown. Not white, or navy, but a pale sky blue, a long sash draped over her right shoulder embossed with the royal symbol of Hyrule. It covered her left arm but exposed the right. She wore her hair long. Above the sky was cloudy, but bright.

Link stood at her side. Sidon, Teba, Riju and Yunobo stood before her. They waited with apprehension for Zelda to speak.

"You four have all but given your lives for Hyrule," she said, slowly and carefully. "You have all fought so hard to be revered the way you are today. Sidon, you have personally stood in the way of danger that came before your people, and have emerged as a fine King. Teba, you have risked life and limb to protect your home, and have forged for yourself and your family a new life. Riju, you have risen above your duties to lead the Gerudo, and are a dear friend and ally. And Yunobo, you have challenged yourself to find courage in the absence of anything else, and are now the very first Goron bard. In return, I have given you little, something for which I now atone."

She nodded to Link, who stepped forward with the new scarves, handing them out one by one. Zelda let the light return to her hand. The Champions gasped in unison, for despite that they had heard of the return of Zelda's powers, none, if any, had seen it.

"A year ago I withheld something from you, and at the time it was necessary. But not anymore. I believe Hyrule is ready, at last."

"You can't mean-" Riju blurted out.

"The Divine Beasts," Teba finished. "Are you sure about this?"

"Certain," Zelda answered.

"You want us to pilot them?" Yunobo asked, with either terror or glee. Sidon balled a fist.

"Of course!" he grinned. "And what an honour."

"If that is what you want," Zelda said. "My father counselled me to have faith. He believed in a unified Hyrule, as do I. But...of all his lessons, I believe there was one he did not impart. With unity must come independence. Trust is the very essence of faith."

The Champions nodded, and so Zelda raised her hand, letting the power flow. In each corner of Hyrule, there was an awakening, and then a chorus! An elephants roar, an eagle's screech, a camel's guttery cry and a lizard's call. The Beasts of Hyrule were returned. The Champions spun around to their respective Beasts in amazement.

"With this return comes a promise!" Zelda told them. "I wield my power, as you do yours, but know I will never use it against you, and that I expect the same in return. This is the faith we share."

Zelda closed her hand and let it fall.

The power faded and laid itself dormant. The Champions donned their scarves, and then the ceremony was over. With the formality broken, they began to chatter not as allies or colleagues, but as friends.

"When will you go to yours?" Riju asked Teba, who shrugged.

"I'd better ask my wife first," he said sheepishly. Meanwhile, Yunobo was waving to his Divine Beast in the distance, before challenging Sidon to see who could shout to theirs the loudest.

Zelda held out her hand to Link expectantly, and he obliged by giving her the Sheikah Slate.

"You know, I'm thinking of having one of these reverse engineered so we can each have our own," Zelda said as she fiddled with the Slate. "I'm considering pitching it to Director Purah as my doctorate."

"That's no fun," Link smiled. "What's mine is yours, remember?"

She scowled, but it broke like a wave, and they were once again giggling amongst themselves.

A gentle rain began to fall, blanketing Hyrule in a mist-laden calm. The ground lay quiet, the past at peace.

Soon the sun would set, but after that, a new year would dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge apology for the big delay on Ch 8! I was simply overwhelmed by uni/work and had to take a break! Thank you so so much to everyone who favourited/followed/reviewed TBB, it means so much to me. Special thank you to the people who reviewed in the past week or so sending their good wishes.
> 
> This closes out FTGU and TBB for now, but I will be moving onto a new work called Hyrule Compendium in about three weeks! Thank you again :)


	9. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

* * *

There were six journals in total. Zelda had spent all morning arranging them neatly on the dresser of their Hateno House loft, changing the order or distance from the wall or orientation. Link watched as she fussed and fussed, bringing her some breakfast and then, a while later, clearing the half-eaten and forgotten food. Still, she fretted, sighing intermittently until at last she threw up her hands and said,

"This is all Revali's fault. His diary is slightly larger than the rest. It juts out and makes the whole thing look lopsided."

There was one for each Champion, and two for Rhoam - the first were his diaries as King, and the second as a lingering spirit. "We could just throw Revali's away," Link suggested coyly.

"And be haunted for our entire lives?" Zelda let out a wheezing laugh. "No."

Link imitated deep thought as he examined the journals. "I know," He said. "Close your eyes."

Zelda obeyed. Link spun her around twice, and then with a little clap said, "And open!"

She squinted at the diaries. "Nothing's changed."

"And nothing will. They're  _diaries,_ Zel. We should-"

" _Let the dead rest_ ," Zelda finished the thought. She sighed. "They will find it here, at least."

She took his hand and looked up at the photograph hanging above the dresser. It had been taken the day of the induction of the first Champions. They were all squished in together, nearly crushed by Daruk's over-enthusiastic hug. The photo, which had once made Link and Zelda laugh, was now solemn. A reminder to savour the present before it becomes past. Zelda had mentioned several times that she wished her father could have been in the photo as well, but must have been busy elsewhere, in some meeting or on some site survey.

"You will not be forgotten," Zelda told the Champions, making one last adjustment to the diaries. "But for now, your song is ended."

With that, she relaxed, kissing Link on the cheek before heading down the stairs of their loft.

"I'm making supper," she announced. "We can ride home in the morning."

Link gave the Champions a short nod, and went to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy BOTW Anniversary everyone :)


End file.
